


Who We Are Now

by SpencerRemyLvr



Series: Who We Are [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpencerRemyLvr/pseuds/SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years later, Spencer and Remy are brought back together by random circumstances. What are they going to do now that they're confronted once more with each other? Will Remy hold on to his resolve to do what he thinks is best for Spencer? Will Spencer be able to let go of the hurt Remy's leaving left inside of him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It should’ve been a good day today. Spencer Reid should’ve been happy. Today, he’d graduated from the Academy. Today, he’d bypassed quite a few rules, pissed off a few other cadets, and had not only graduated at a younger age than was typically allowed, but he also graduated straight into the BAU, a place that some of them only dreamed of going to. Not just that, but he was taken onto Jason Gideon’s team, a team that was considered the best of the best. He should be happy to be here, right? He should be on cloud nine! Instead, he found himself standing around at a party in his honor, wishing with all his heart that he was at home.

Not that home was any great place to be. It was too cold, too small, too…empty. There was nothing waiting there for him. Even after all these months, he still couldn’t get used to going home to an empty place.

No! He wasn’t going to sit here and mope. He was here to start a new chapter in his life. For months he’d wallowed in his pain in that little hotel room, unable to bring himself to go back to the loft he’d once called home. It was time to move on. Time to move forward. He was _fine_.

Even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be fine again. But he was damn well going to fake it. These people would never see just how broken he was on the inside.

Straightening his spine and squaring his shoulder, Spencer pasted on a smile and moved to join the crowd once more, his mask firmly in place.

* * *

It was so damn cold. That was the main thought in Remy’s mind at the moment. Everything was just so damn _cold_. Times like this, he missed the muggy heat of a Louisiana spring, or the dryer heat of a California spring. Two of his most favorite places; one he wasn’t allowed to go back to and one he couldn’t bring himself to go back to. Instead he sat here in this windowsill, staring out at the depressingly cool weather of a New York spring. This was the time of year the sun was supposed to come out and things were supposed to get warm! Instead, the clouds above hinted at rain later on in the day, and the chill to the air had him bundling a little tighter inside his coat.

Light footsteps warned him of someone coming up behind him. Remy didn’t bother turning; he knew who it was. There was no surprise when a pair of arms slipped around his shoulders a moment later. They slid around and clasped loosely in front of him. He felt the soft body press against the back of him and then the familiar weight of her chin on his shoulder. “You look sadder than our weather, my brother.” Ororo Munroe said softly.

Remy sighed out a breath and tried to push his melancholy away. He turned his head just enough to press his cheek against hers. “Aint dat, petit.” He reached a hand up to lightly squeeze her arm in reassurance. “Remy just don’t like de cold, y’ know dat.” No need to worry her. There was no point in dumping his pain on her shoulders. No matter how grown up she looked now, he couldn’t help but see the young girl she’d been when he first met her. To him, she would always be that girl, his petit Stormy.

She gave him a light squeeze. “I wish I knew how to make you smile, Remy. The rain always brings such sadness to your eyes.”

He wasn’t surprised. It would probably surprise her to know that, years ago, he had actually come to love the rain. Memories flashed in his mind and he closed his eyes against the ache of them. They were never far from him. Every time he saw the rain, he remembered. He remembered walking hand and hand with Spencer when a rainstorm struck seemingly out of nowhere. They’d missed the signs, too caught up in one another to pay any attention. He remembered how Spencer had looked with his hair plastered to his head and his clothes clinging to every inch of him. He remembered the joy and laughter on that beautiful face as Spencer had tipped his head back and let the water wash over him. He remembered how sweet it had felt to catch that lean body up against his and spin him through an impromptu dance right there in the middle of a parking lot, with people watching on and clapping for them. He remembered a night where they’d stretched out on the roof of the building to watch the stars and had ended up waking up to rain in the middle of the night. He remembered how Spencer had looked over top of him, all that pale skin wet and glistening in the night, his head thrown back in passion while his hips rolled in that ancient dance.

Those memories washed through Remy now

* * *

Paperwork was one of the most dull things in the world, in the mind of Derek Morgan. He finished putting his signature on yet another piece of paper and happily closed the folder, stuffing it in his outbox. Done with that one for now, he sat back in his chair and stretched, eyes scanning the room. They lit up a little when saw Penelope bouncing her way over to him. That girl was a bright spot in a boring day and he was beyond thankful for the interruption she’d provide. “Hey there, baby girl. What’s got you looking so chipper?”

Penelope’s grin grew a little wider. She stopped by his desk, perching on the edge of it, and she gestured with her head over towards where the coffee pot was. Derek dutifully looked over there. His lips curved a little when he saw their resident genius pouring himself what had to be his fourth cup of coffee this morning. Then he noticed the guy right by him. It only took a second for Derek to read the body language and to make a guess at what was going on. _Ah._ No wonder Penelope looked so giddy. She couldn’t resist any kind of matchmaking efforts. Seeing someone very obviously hitting on Spencer—and wasn’t it hilarious that this guy, a _guy_ , chose to actually hit on another _guy_ in the middle of the Bureau instead of safely outside of work—would be like Christmas for her.  Her face was practically shining when she grinned down at him. “Look at that! Maybe our Dr. Reid is finally gonna go out on a date. That poor boy needs some kind of life outside of work.”

“He won’t.” Derek said absently. He watched as Spencer smiled politely at whatever the guy was saying. But even from here, he could easily see the distance Spencer was keeping between him and the other guy, and the clear signals his body was displaying to show he wasn’t interested.

Penelope turned curiously towards him. “What do you mean, he won’t?”

Watching for a moment longer, Derek finally turned his attention back towards Penelope. He saw her confusion and curiosity clearly on her face. There was no way she was going to just let this go. If he didn’t answer her, she’d probably go after Spencer later. Teasing him about seeing the guy flirt with him, maybe even try and find a way to set him up. Derek knew the teasing would embarrass the hell out of his friends. While Spencer had been shockingly open about his sexuality—He had no qualms about declaring himself ‘pansexual’, telling people “I’m attracted to the person inside. What’s on the outside, be it male or female, is only wrapping.”—he was extremely shy and private about his personal life.

Derek reached out and put his hand on Penelope’s, squeezing lightly. “Leave him be, baby girl. Reid could get a date easily enough if he wanted to. He just doesn’t want to. I don’t know why and I’m not going to bug him about it. But I’ve heard him tell plenty of people that he’s just not interested in dating. At all.”

“But…but what about Lila?”

Ah, Lila. Derek remembered that case, just as he remembered how flustered Spencer had been afterwards. How utterly uncomfortable the whole thing had made him. “I didn’t say he’s not attracted to people. He’s just not interested in doing anything about it.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spencer coming over and he lowered his voice, making it just slightly stern. “Leave him alone, Garcia. Trust me on this one. Just leave him alone about it.”

When Spencer sat down at his desk a moment later, his cheeks still carried a hint of a blush to them from whatever the man had said. But Derek knew without even having to ask that Spencer had turned the guy down. Just the same as he’d done with any person that Derek had ever seen show interest in him since the day he joined the Bureau.

Looking up, Spencer caught Derek watching him and he smiled shyly, a hint of embarrassment in his expression. There was no doubt he knew Derek had seen the scene by the coffee. He looked down and then back up, lips quirking a little, and he rolled his eyes as a little. Derek smiled back at him and shrugged his shoulder in agreement.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that there had to be something that had happened in Spencer's past, something that had turned him away from dating. The possibilities were endless and each one made him want to take the kid, a kid who had become like his baby brother, and hug him and tell him it was going to be okay. But, he didn’t. Spencer wouldn’t appreciate it and it wouldn’t do any good. Whatever it was that had hurt him, it was deep. Sometimes you could catch glimpses of it in his eyes; eyes that were far too old for one so young. But Spencer kept whatever it was locked down tight inside of him where no one could touch it.

So Derek did the only things that he could. He built a strong friendship with the awkward young genius, a friendship that bordered on brotherhood, and he made sure that Spencer knew no matter what he always had a friend on his side. That there was always going to be _someone_ there for him.

* * *

Despite how long he’d been with them, no one at the Mansion could honestly say that they truly knew what Remy was capable of. The man put up a good front, but something told Scott that that’s just what it was—a front. He watched Remy often, trying to understand him. Trying to piece together the puzzle he presented. There were many faces of Remy LeBeau and Scott often wondered if any of them were the real one. Or were they all illusion, created for the person he was speaking to or the moment he was in? As team leader, Scott had to try to understand this man. To keep his team safe, and to help the teammate he often felt was screaming, even if no one else seemed to hear it.

He watched silently, observing from a distance. Cataloging all the different parts of the Cajun. After years, he was still counting. There was Remy, Ororo’s brother. The cheeky thief who had taken a young Storm under his wing, had cared for and protected her even as they stole together, and who had brought her here to her family and stayed with her. There was Remy, the friend. A kind side that he showed to those that got close to him. One that listened to people’s problems and offered whatever advice he could. There was Gambit, the professional thief. One who took his work very, very seriously. Or, Gambit, one of the X-Men. A cocky, arrogant, flirtatious little shit who liked to poke and tease and basically try to get on everyone’s last nerve. The one who would piss you off one moment and fight by your side the next, throwing those dangerous cards of his and laughing as his enemies tried fruitlessly to get a blow in of their own. There was Remy, the playboy. The one who disappeared to bars and came home the next morning, smelling like a alcohol and stale perfume.

There were countless more. Scott had seen them, cataloged them in his mind, and still he felt he was no closer to really finding out who this man was.

Today, he was watching as another side of Remy showed, one that didn’t often come out to play. The childlike side of him. This Remy was currently racing around the yard with Jubilee, Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue, each one of them armed with a water gun. From his spot safely stationed by the barbeque, Scott was free to watch them. This was one of his favorite things to see. All the young ones here, out playing together, having fun. Having a life outside of the fight, the Dream. Just getting the chance to be regular kids, even if some of those kids were in their twenties. They were still kids at heart.

He smothered a laugh as Jubilee, Rogue and Bobby ambushed Kitty and Remy. The two were ambushed and summarily drenched. Kitty let out a shocked squeal that echoed through the air while Remy just threw his head back and laughed. More shrieks filled the air as the Cajun leapt out and started returning fire, heedless of the water that tried to spray his face.

It was a pity to have to break it up. But Scott pulled the last burger off the grill for Jean to take to the table, and Logan’s deep voice echoed out through the air with a call of “Grub’s on!” Ah, such a way with words, that one. Scott rolled his eyes safely behind his shades and made his way to the picnic tables that were spread out. The soaked set joined them a moment later, dripping all over everyone and everything and laughing happily. Soaked through, Bobby and Remy both gave in to the heat of the day and stripped their shirts off, tossing them over the low wall nearby so they could dry.

Scott’s eyebrows went up with surprise when he saw the skin underneath Remy’s shirt. He realized this was the first time he’d ever seen the man go fully shirtless around them. Odd, that. He was either bundled up at home, or in his battle armor when they were out, or dressed up for a date. He never lounged around in just his pants. Too cold, he liked to say. Weather here was too cold for the Louisiana native. But now he was stripped down just to his soaking wet jeans and everyone got a clear view of what was underneath. Not the body, per se, though Scott could see what held the appeal for the girls that went after him. Remy was well toned and muscular while still being somewhat lean. No, it was the tattoos that caught his attention. His and everyone else’s.

Not surprising that Jubilee was the one to speak up. “Wow, Remy. I didn’t know ya had any ink.”

“Oh, _oui_. Got de first when Remy was just a young pup.” He told her while he took his seat. Turning a little, he showed her the tribal band wrapped around his left bicep and then the one wrapped around his right. “Was about fifteen or so when Remy got dese.”

“Fifteen?” Jubilee’s eyebrows went up and she turned towards Logan, who looked at her and shook his head, growling out “Don’t even think about it.”

Laughter echoed around the tables.

When the laughter died down, Remy pointed to his next tattoo, this one on the inside of his right arm. This one was of a cross with what looked like rosary beads wrapped around it. “Got dis one next, when Remy was somewhere round eighteen, give or take.”

“You don’t know how old you were?” Bobby asked.

Shrugging one shoulder like it was nothing, Remy just casually said “Don’t really know how old Remy is, _mon ami_. Aint exactly got no birth certificate t’ look at.” He dropped that little bombshell like it was nothing and gloss over the shocked faces around him. Ignoring them, he leaned back a little and pulled down the top of his jeans just the slightest bit. There, on his left hip, was another tattoo. This one was of four playing cards, with two dice in front of them. The four cards were all kings and the one at the front was the King of Hearts, only instead of a K in each corner, there was an R in the bottom corner and an S in the top corner. “Got dat one a few years back, right b’fore Remy came here. Oh! Almost f’got one.” He turned completely now and showed them his back.

This time the surprise was a little more widespread. “Oh, wow.” Kitty breathed out. “Those are beautiful.”

On Remy’s back was the most intricately done pair of wings. The tops started just below his shoulders and they ran down the full length of his back, stopping at points that looked like they ended just below the line of his jeans. The wings almost looked like angel wings, yet they weren’t at the same time. They were done slightly, sharper. Thinner, a bit. And they weren’t white, but done in red and black to match his eyes. They were like a devil version of the angel wings.

Remy stayed twisted long enough for everyone to see and then he fluidly turned himself back around. “Got dose few years b’fore de cards.”

While Scott logged away this new information, adding it to the mental file he had on the Cajun, the rest of the table was asking him about when he got them done, if it had hurt, how long it had taken. But eventually, Rogue spoke up asking the question no one else had thought to ask. “The one of the cards, how come that’s got an S and R instead of the K for King?”

Only because he’d watched him for so long and had studied his expressions to try and understand him was Scott able to see the tension that suddenly filled Remy. He didn’t go hard or actually physically tense up, like most would. His expression cooled just ever so slightly and his body loosened, like he was preparing to run if he had to. With his sunglasses on, it was impossible to see his eyes and those were the best way to gauge him. Scott watched with interest as Remy shrugged one shoulder and took a drink off his beer. “No important reason, cher. Just some letters dat aint special to no one but Remy.” And before she could press her point any further, Remy launched right into a tale about the artist who had done the tattoo. Soon enough, he had the whole table laughing.

Scott watched as this mask slid into place, as Remy became the playful, spunky, feisty Remy that most people around here expected. No, no one around here really, truly knew this man. There was something under all this, something that very few people even glimpsed. The Cajun showed them many faces, but none of them were who he really was inside. Watching the man talk and laugh, Scott wondered who or what had hurt him so badly that he’d locked it all away so deep down inside. And he wondered if there would come a day when the real Remy got buried so deep, he’d simply fade away, leaving only the shell of a man he’d once been, his masks the only thing left behind.

* * *

It was the end to a long day. But, though Spencer was tired, more tired than he’d been in a long time, he was also…better. The weight that had been on his shoulder, on his soul, was lighter than before. Not gone, no. But lighter. When he and Jason arrived back at the hotel after finishing watching Ethan’s performance, for once Spencer didn’t feel like simply going and hiding. He didn’t feel like escaping from his friends. For so long now, that had been all he wanted. To be around them and yet to be as far from them as possible.

Wasn’t it ironic that it was New Orleans of all places that Spencer finally seemed to reach that turning point in his life? Ever since the events in Georgia, ever since he’d been kidnapped, drugged, had _died_ , ever since then his life had become off course. Oh, he knew why. He knew it was his own fault. Not the kidnapping, no. Just what he had done afterwards. He hadn’t coped. He hadn’t dealt with it. Instead, he’d done the stupidest thing in the world. He’d lost himself in the very drug that Tobias had injected in to him. He’d let the blessed emptiness of the Dilaudid work to take away the pain in his life. And he had learned the hard way that the emptiness never lasts and it’s not worth the cost. It’s not worth the pain when the emptiness fades and it’s not worth the pain he was causing his friends. All it had taken was this case here in New Orleans and a visit with an old friend to help set him back on track. Talking with Ethan had helped him. Talking with Jason later on had helped even more. Spencer knew he wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t miraculously ‘healed’. He was, however, finally ready to start healing.

Due to the time and some weather, Jason told him they would be leaving first thing in the morning. They had one more night left here. He planned to take advantage of this down time.

Whatever plans he’d built went right out the window when they arrived at the hotel. No sooner had he climbed out of the SUV than someone was walking straight towards him. Spencer paused, slightly curious. He took a second to look the man over and try to see if he could place him. Tall, handsome, somewhere in his forties, Spencer estimated. He was impeccably dressed in clothes that spoke of taste and money both and he moved with a natural sort of grace that Spencer had seen in very few people. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar. Had he seen him at the station, maybe?

The man smiled as he got close. “Dr. Reid?” The words were a question, yet something told Spencer the man already knew the answer. Still, he smiled and nodded. “That’s me. Can I help you?” he asked politely. He felt Jason step up beside him, a reassuring sort of presence by his side.

Stopping just in front of him, the man gave him a warm and charming smile. He folded one arm in front of him and one behind him and gave a short bow. “I was hoping I’d catch y’ b’fore y’ and y’r team left.”  Straightening back up, the man’s bright eyes fixed on him and his expression warmed even more. Then he said the last thing that Spencer had expected and that he definitely wasn’t prepared for. “My name is Jean Luc LeBeau. It’s a pleasure t’ finally meet y’, Dr. Reid.”

Everything in Spencer froze for one split second. His heart felt like it skipped a beat. A soft little “oh” slid past his lips. He knew his eyes were wide, knew his shock was written right out there on his face. It seemed that all he could do was stand there and stare. Now he knew why the man looked so familiar. Memory came back to him of a picture that Remy had of him and an older gentleman. This gentleman. His father. This was Remy’s _father_. The man who had taken him in off the streets, who had given him a home and a family, who had raised him.

Jean Luc nodded his head and gave Spencer a look of understanding and compassion. “I understand dis is all unexpected. I was hoping dat y’ might like t’ take a walk wit’ me. Dere’s a café down de road dat makes an excellent coffee.”

“Of course.” What else could he say? Still slightly in shock, Spencer excused himself to Jason. Then he found himself walking down the street side by side with his ex-lover’s father. What the hell was going on here? Neither man said a word as they walked quietly side by side. Jean Luc led him to the little café where they were whisked away to a table in the back that afforded them some privacy. Both ordered coffee. When the man also ordered two slices of pie, Spencer tried to decline. It earned him a sharp stare so reminiscent of Remy that it struck Spencer silent. “Y’ hush now, boy.” Jean Luc scolded him firmly. “Y’r too skinny as it is. Be lucky I’m not after ordering y’ a meal b’fore y’r pie. Y’ll eat dis, y’ hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The response came out automatically and earned him a smile and a low laugh. Jean Luc shook his head in amusement. “None of dis ‘sir’ stuff. I get enough of dat from others in m’ life. De last place I need it is from m’ family, too.”

Family? That word caught Spencer off guard. It had him sitting back in his seat and staring quietly the while the waitress poured their coffee and delivered their pie. He debated a thousand different responses and countless questions. So many of them that he could barely keep them straight. The peace he’d found earlier in the evening was long gone by now. This meeting had ripped straight through it. Through the peace, through the calm, through every single shield he’d put up inside to protect that broken part of him that had never healed. There was a hint of that broken boy in his eyes when he looked across the table. All his careful questions and responses vanished. In its place was a broken, fragile honesty and the echo of a pain that had never fully left him. “What do you want from me? We aren’t family, sir. I haven’t spoken with your son in four years now.”

The compassion that he’d glimpsed in Jean Luc’s eyes earlier was back now, stronger than before. He kept quiet as their waitress returned, delivering their coffee and pie. Only when they were served and she was once more gone did he finally speak. “Of course we’re family, Spencer Reid. Maybe my stubborn son is stupidly keeping de two of y’ apart fo’ some noble reason or another. Dat doesn’t take away from de fact dat y’ two love one another. I know m’ son’s heart and I know who holds it.”

Oh, God. Spencer's heart throbbed painfully in his chest. To cover the tremble in his hands, he curled them around his mug, letting the heat seep into child fingers. “I may hold it, but it does me no good. He’s made his choice.” No matter how much they hurt for it, Remy had made that choice. He’d made it four years ago when he’d walked away. And he made it every single day since then that he stayed away.

“Y’ know he’s not fully gone.”

Jean Luc’s casual words had Spencer nodding. Of course he knew. “He watches me.” Spencer dropped his eyes, staring at the dark liquid in his cup. “I know he does. He has since I first joined the Bureau. Sometimes I come home from a case and I can tell he’s been in my apartment.” Not recently, though. Not for months now. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? It meant that Remy couldn’t possibly know about what he’d been doing to himself since Georgia. Because if Remy knew about the drugs, he wouldn’t have stayed quiet. He also wouldn’t have left them in the apartment. At the least, his stash would’ve vanished. It wasn’t like he worked to hide it. The supplies were always right out there in the open in his room. _You wanted him to see_ his mind whispered. Spencer shoved that thought aside.

A hint of humor touched Jean Luc’s lips. “He’s a stubborn _connard_.”

That startled a laugh out of Spencer. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“It’s our cross t’ bear fo’ loving one like him. But, worth de price in de end, _non_?”

“Yes.” No matter the pain, it was worth it. He would never regret loving Remy.

Smiling, Jean Luc picked up his fork, pointing it at Spencer. “Eat.” He commanded. He watched and waited until Spencer put that first bite into his mouth. When he did, the man smiled at him like some proud father. “Dat’s better. Now, enough of de sad stuff. Dere aint no point in dredging it up and making y’ hurt. I didn’t bring y’ here to hurt y’. I brought y’ here so I could get de chance to know m’ son’s better half.” And just like that, their conversation turned lighter. Jean Luc asked him question after question about his life and his work. Spencer found himself drawn out little by little until he found himself relaxing without even realizing it. The only other person that had been this interested in him when he spoke was Remy. Spencer absorbed every second of the conversation with a bitter sweet sensation. All of this was so familiar yet different. That warm Cajun accent was familiar, but whereas Remy spoke in broken English with horrible grammar and dirty innuendos thrown in, Jean Luc had a slightly proper way of speaking kind of like Spencer did. He focused on Spencer and listened to his answers, much like Remy had, but the eyes fixed on him weren’t the red and black orbs he longed to see.

Still, Spencer loved their conversation and he found himself losing track of time. He didn’t even realize that hours had gone past. He and Jean Luc had started exchanging stories, not just about one another but about Remy as well. Despite the ache it put in his heart, it also felt good to be able to talk so openly about his love. No one at the Bureau knew about Remy. For four years, Spencer had been alone, unable to talk about this. Unable to bring himself to share something so precious and so painful. But he didn’t have to hide it here with Jean Luc. He could open up and share the memories he cherished. In return, Jean Luc shared his own memories and Spencer got a chance to get to know a whole new part of Remy this way.

Eventually the two men left the café. Their walk back to the hotel was just as quiet as it had been earlier. They were content simply to be side by side. Then the two were back at the hotel, standing outside Spencer's room, and they knew it was time to say goodbye. Spencer found himself reluctant to do so. He didn’t want to give up this warm feeling he’d found. Jean Luc wasn’t Remy, but he was a connection to him, and Spencer was loathe to let that go.

Jean Luc surprised him by echoing his thoughts. “I don’t want t’ leave y’ here, petit. It’s like leaving m’ boy all over again.”

“I know what you mean.” Spencer murmured.

A smile touched the older man’s lips. His expression gentled as he watched Spencer. “Right now, Remy can’t be dere fo’ y’. It’s outta his own stubbornness and fear, _mais_ either way, he can’t. Let me be de one to be dere fo’ y’.” Reaching out, Jean Luc tucked a bit of Spencer's hair behind his ear. He dropped his hand to rest on Spencer's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “He can’t be dere fo’ y’ and I can’t be dere fo’ him. Let me be dere fo’ y’, Spencer.” He smiled and it warmed his face, straight up to his eyes. “I always wanted another son.”

Jesus. Spencer bit the inside of his lip to try and use the pain as a way to keep himself under control. Tears burned hot in the back of his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was let them fall. Not trusting his voice, he gave a jerky sort of nod. Seeing it had Jean Luc’s smile growing. Then, to Spencer's surprise, the man used the hand on his shoulder and pulled Spencer in close, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “Welcome to de family, _mon fils_.” He murmured in Spencer's ear.

When they pulled apart, Spencer had to turn his head to discreetly wipe at the few tears that had slipped free. Jean Luc didn’t call him on it, didn’t comment at all. He just gave Spencer's shoulder one last squeeze before letting go of him. When he spoke, his voice was back to normal, with the same command he’d showed earlier when ordering Spencer to eat. “Y’ go on and get in dere and get some sleep, petit. Y’ got de tired look to y’r face.”

“Yes, sir.” Spencer said impishly. It got him the smile and laugh he was aiming for.

Before Spencer could walk off, Jean Luc handed him a business card. “Here, take dis. It’s got m’ numbers on it, both m’ day phone and m’ private number. Y’ call me if y’ need me fo’ anyt’ing. _Anyt’ing_ , petit.” He said that firmly and waited for Spencer's nod before continuing. “An y’ call at least once a month, just to check in. Or y’r new Papa’s gon’ fly up to y’ and kick y’r ass. _D’accord_?”

Laughter bubbled up from Spencer. “Okay.”

* * *

Something was wrong with the Cajun.

What it was, Logan wasn’t sure. But he was bound and determined to find out what it was. Sure, he and Rogue were on the outs right now, but that was par for the course. Those two fought all the time. They were off more than they were on and Remy never seemed to care all that much. Which, in Logan’s book, said quite a lot about their relationship. He had his doubts about their reasons behind being together. There was just something wrong about it. Remy was a charmer, there was no doubt there. With little effort he could have the pick of pretty much anyone he wanted. But he came here and he picked the one person who can’t touch, the one he can’t have. The one that’s ‘safe’.

The kid had been surlier than normal lately, his tongue a little sharper, and he hadn’t gone into town to burn none of it off for at least a week. In fact, he’d taken to drinking alone, either up on the roof or down on the dock. He seemed to be avoiding people as much as possible. Most of the house attributed it to his fight with Rogue and they seemed content to let it go.

None of them could smell what Logan could smell, though. Depression clung to the kid’s scent all the time now. It was always there, in some form or another, and it had been for as long as he’d been here. Just, not like this.

So Logan did the only thing he could do. He watched, he waited, and when opportunity presented itself, he set out to try and fix whatever the hell was wrong with his annoying friend.

His opportunity came when Remy was yet again down at the dock by himself one evening. Before Logan even got close, he could smell the alcohol. Shit, the kid was either piss ass drunk, or well on his way. That could be either a good thing or a bad thing. The alcohol he smelled was bourbon and that tended to either make the kid easy to talk to, or it knocked him out. Just depended on how far into the bottle you caught him.

Remy didn’t acknowledge Logan’s presence at first, though he had to know that the man was there. He just sat there, long legs stretched out in front of him, staring out over the water. Well, two could play at this game. Logan shifted his stance and got comfortable. He could stand here all night if that was what it took.

It didn’t take all night. It didn’t even take a few minutes. Without turning around, Remy spoke to him, not even breaking his gaze on the water. “Remy aint de best company t’night, Wolvie.”

“Aint never bothered me none.” Logan said simply. It was the truth. They had a good friendship, he and Remy. There were plenty of times where they’d hung out together without saying a word. Both could appreciate the need for quiet sometimes.

Remy made a low humming noise that could’ve been agreement or it could’ve meant anything else. Either way, Logan didn’t say anything. He just went back to waiting. Tonight wasn’t a night for him to talk. It was a night for him to listen, and Logan was a hell of a good listener, as his friends all discovered when they got close enough to him. Finding the right words was something he struggled with. He was more action than words, which generally fed the impression that he was all brawn and no brains. But in the right circumstances, with the right people, Logan would put out the effort to find those words, no matter how difficult it was. Right now, he didn’t worry about it. He just waited, letting Remy know in his own quiet way that he was here to listen.

His patience was rewarded with far more honesty than he’d expected. With a soft sigh, Remy drew his knees up towards his chest. “Y’ ever been in love, Wolvie?” He asked quietly. “I don’t mean de little loves. I mean dat kind of love dat reaches right down in y’ and grips y’r heart an soul? Y’ take one look at de person and it just hits y’ like a bolt of lightning and y’ know, y’ just know, dis is de person y’r gonna love fo’ de rest of y’r life?”

Logan thought for sure the thief was talking about Rogue and fought the urge to growl. He couldn’t stand watching their relationship. He hated to see what she did to the Cajun over and over and how Remy just kept coming back for more. He pushed back his temper so the empath wouldn’t feel it, using his old training to keep that meditative state inside. “Yeah.” He finally answered. “Yeah, I do.”

A wistful look crossed Remy’s face. He folded his arms and rested them on top his knees before dropping his chin down to rest on his arms. For a short beat, he was quiet. Then his voice came, whisper soft in the night air. “Once y’ve felt dat, dere’s nothing else in life dat can ever compare to it. It changes y’, deep down inside, and y’r never de same again. I had dat once.” The word ‘once’ caught Logan’s attention and had him looking down sharply at the boy. Remy didn’t even look up. That smell of depression grew a little stronger. “I had it, and I let it go. I let dat love go, knowing it was better fo’ us both. Knowing it kept him safe. With me, he would’ve always been in danger. M’ life wasn’t safe back den. Hell, it aint any safer now. But dey hurt him to get to me and dey would’ve kept hurtin’ him. What else could I do? I had to walk away to make him safe.”

Logan stared silently at a man who suddenly seemed so much different. This new information processed in Logan’s mind and he found himself understanding a few things about his friend that he never had before. A few more pieces to the puzzle that was Remy LeBeau slid into place.

A painful sounding laugh slipped from Remy. “It would’ve been our anniversary today. If I hadn’t left, it would’ve been ten years fo’ us today. It’s been five years since I walked outta dat hospital room an every day, I wish I could go back and never leave.” The last words ended on a whisper so soft Logan almost didn’t hear it.

What could he say to his friend right now? This was more than Remy had ever confided in him before. This wasn’t some mask that Remy had on, some story he was telling. This was true, honest Remy, open in a way he never was around here. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Logan could definitely smell it on him. Or maybe it was just that today was too much. The pain was just too much. He stared out over the water and wished he was better with words. “Have you ever thought of going back? Trying to find him?”

“Oh, _oui_. T’ink about it every day. What right do I got, though? He was hurt, cher. He was hurt bad, jus’ fo’ being wit’ me. M’ enemies aint gotten any less since den. How can I ask him t’ live dat kind of life wit’ me?”

Logan kept staring ahead, not entirely comfortable but unable to walk away from this. “I been around a long time.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “If I learned one thing, it’s that ya gotta do what makes ya happy. Ya gotta take any happiness you can find. Cause ya never know when it’s all gonna be taken away again. Maybe you’ll only love him for a day. Who knows? It’s a day more than ya have right now, though, aint it?” Shrugging one shoulder, he brought his gaze down, surprised to see that Remy was staring up at him with those wide eyes. Seeing the pain there, Logan sighed. “Ya don’t gotta give up a life for this, Gumbo. What’s the point of fighting for a dream if it makes us all miserable? That happily-ever-after you’re talkin about, aint that what we’re fighting for? We should consider it a win if ya get it.”

With those last, sage words, Logan reached out and pet a hand over the kid’s hair. Then he turned and headed up towards the mansion, leaving Remy there to think on what he’d said.


	2. Chapter 2

A slight chill was in the early morning air. As Spencer sat at the bus stop waiting for the bus to take him to work, he pulled his sweater just a little tighter around himself to keep warm. Even after all these years of living in DC, he still hadn’t quite managed to adjust to the cooler climate. Or, as Derek liked to tease him, he just didn’t pack enough meat on his bones to actually manage to stay warm. That thought made him smile a little as he turned the page on the newspaper in his hands. Usually when Derek started picking on him for being slender, he returned the teasing with remarks about ‘muscle bound jocks’ that would make Derek growl in a playful sort of way. There weren’t many people in Spencer's life that he had ever been able to openly tease with. He knew he was lucky in having the friends that he did.

Turning the page again on his paper, he couldn’t help but grimace when he came across a story detailing a ‘mutant attack’. Years of learning how to read between the lines gave him a pretty good idea of what had really happened. The story claimed a young mutant had attacked a group of students out behind the football field in a small town outside of DC. The photo they showed told a bit of a different story. Young, scrawny looking kid and four big, jock looking types. Experience told Spencer it was highly unlikely that the kid had knowingly ‘waited in ambush’ as the story was claiming. A kid like that? It was highly likely the four jocks had taken their victim out for some harassment. Judging by the age of the kid, he was either new to his powers or just came in to them at that moment. His ‘attack’ had probably been purely self-defense. Turning the page, Spencer gave a sad shake of his head. The poor kid was going to have to go through hell because of that. He gave silent thanks that his powers hadn’t caused trouble like that for him when he was a kid.

Spencer's powers luckily weren’t physically dangerous to those around him. The only danger they presented was to him, or to the peace of mind of others. He didn’t have an offensive power. What he had, for lack of a better description, were visions, though not in the sense most people assumed with the word ‘visions’. It was more, clairvoyance. By definition, the term clairvoyance is used to refer to the ability to gain information about an object, person, location or physical event through means other than the known human senses. Basically, what that meant for him was that he had the ability to touch something and to gain information. Thoughts, images, full on visions. All that with just a touch of his fingers. With that came a small amount of empathy. Not enough to feel much in the way of people’s emotions. In a room of people he could only pick up the general feel of things. But touching, he could pick up so much more. He could touch someone and, even without the visions, he still picked up on their emotions. It made life rather interesting for him and helped feed in to his aversion to touch. Touching people gave him more information than if he touched an object. Not just emotions, but the most with his ‘visions’. He had to learn to shield, fast, to keep from getting flashes of thoughts, emotions and images every time he touched someone. Some of the things he saw were extremely personal and some left him feeling a little sick inside.

He’d had to take six months off after high school to practice at home and gain a form of control over his abilities. When he left for Caltech at the start of the new term, he’d had a rudimentary control and a pair of gloves to back him up on the days his control wasn’t what it needed to be.

Spencer couldn’t help but give a small snort of cynical amusement. As much as his visions helped others, he seemed to be immune to his own abilities in that sense. They’d never showed him anything towards himself that could help. None of his visions had ever even hinted at the attack from Creed, or Remy walking away. They’d never warned him about Tobias or anything that had happened in Georgia. They’d never warned him about any danger to himself.

The sound of the bus pulling up drew Spencer out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. He folded his paper up and rose from the bench. A flash of his bus pass and he made his way on the bus and back to a seat. There he settled in once more, though he left his paper in his messenger bag. As the bus started away, Spencer stared out the window and let his thoughts drift once more. This time, they drifted ahead of him, wondering what the day would hold. Paperwork, most likely. He didn’t really mind that. Though, he’d probably end up with some files in his pile that weren’t his. Still, that was fine. He didn’t mind doing it. He liked his job and he liked the people he worked with.

It seemed almost natural that he’d ended up in a job like this. A profiler, working at the BAU. In this job he got to help catch some of the worst criminals out there. Serial killers, rapists, arsonists. People who did horrible things. For Spencer, it was right that he was in a job that let him help people. Not just because of his own nature but because of his powers, too. They came in handy in his line of work. He could touch an item that belonged to a victim, or maybe touch the ground where their bodies were dumped—anything that had a personal connection to the person—and he might get a glimpse of what happened to them. In that, he might see clues, things that would help lead him to a killer. Or he could go into the bedroom of a missing child and try to touch things there and maybe get a flash of thought from the child, or a glimpse through their eyes of where they were in that moment, or what could happen to them. But he had to be touching something connected to that person. The more personal the item, the better his chances.

With how mutants were viewed—especially by the very government that he worked for—what Spencer saw couldn’t exactly be used, and it wasn’t admissible in court, so he had to be careful about what he did with it. They had to take what he saw and use it to find facts, evidence, things that could prove their case. If every instinct he had was telling him that Joe Blow over there was their Unsub, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it without proof. The team he worked with was damn good at helping find that proof.

Confiding in them was one of the smartest decisions he’d ever made.

Not that telling them had really been a _choice_. More—an accident of fate? He didn’t quite know how else to describe it. What do you call it when the mutant powers you’ve been hiding are suddenly shown in great, startling clarity, right in front of the people you’d been absolutely terrified of having find out—and then, they don’t even freak out on you? Spencer hadn’t ever planned on telling them, well, anything. Why would he? They were government officials, after all, and despite how nice they were, he hadn’t been sure they wouldn’t turn him in to people higher up. What would happen then, he could only shudder to think about. However, the decision was taken out of his hands one afternoon in, of all places, the middle of a conference room in a police station in St. Louis.

It was such an innocent mistake. One that, if he’d been thinking clearly, he never would’ve made. The case had been a long one and everyone was running tired. They were working a child abduction, one of the cases that Spencer always had a hard time with. He’d become adept at using his abilities and covering them up over the years, letting people think it was simply his profiling talent. What little guilt he felt over lying, and over not using his abilities as much as he _could_ , he pushed down underneath the part of him that had learned to survive at a very young age. That case, though…that case blew things out of the water. A combination of little sleep, little food, lots of stress, and using his abilities while trying to be discreet, all of those combined together to make him make his mental shields not as strong as normal. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would never have touched the child’s hat that they’d found at the scene. At the least, he wouldn’t have touched it without gloves. But he wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d reached out, mind on other things, and absently picked up the hat. The vision had hit him with the force of a speeding bus.

Luckily, no one but the team saw him. No one else was in the conference room. So, it was only the team that saw him collapse to the ground, too tired to have his usual strength to stand against what he saw. Only they heard him as he moaned through the pain of what he was seeing and feeling. Only they were there when he surfaced and instantly blurted out “I know where he is! We’ve got to go, now, before he kills him!”

It was all over from there. After that moment, there was on going back. When they demanded to know what he was talking about, what could he do but tell the truth? A child’s life was at stake and that was far more important than any secret he wanted to keep. To his surprise, they listened to his brief, clipped explanation and they sprang instantly into action, trusting him at his word.

They saved the boy. That was one of Spencer's favorite memories. They’d arrived just in time to save the boy.

On the flight home, he’d had to give the team a fuller explanation. He’d told them more detail about his powers and about how he’d used them in the past. As best as he was able, he answered their questions. And from that day forth, he had a group of people at his back who not only knew his secret, they helped protect him so that he had the freedom to use it.

Yeah, confiding in them was definitely one of the best things he’d ever done.

The bus came to a stop, bringing Spencer out of his memories. He looked outside and gathered his things before slipping off the bus. Time to go to work.

* * *

“I’m scheduled to do _what_?”

Spencer stared across the desk at his boss and knew he was gaping like a fish, yet he couldn’t stop himself. There was no way he’d heard Aaron right. No way! He had to be hearing things.

Apparently not. Aaron folded his hands on his desk and didn’t even bat an eye at Spencer's exclamation. “The Bureau scheduled you to speak at the law enforcement convention in New York this week.”

“Me.” Spencer repeated, pointing at himself. “They want _me_ to speak.”

“Yes.”

“But…but…they can’t mean _me_!” The idea was simply ludicrous! There was no way they’d want him to speak at a convention. Not after…he shuddered. “You remember what happened the last time I spoke at one of these conferences, Hotch. They can’t possibly want me to speak after that fiasco!” That ‘fiasco’, as he so succinctly put it, had ended with a broken mic stand, a small fire, and seventeen stitches for Spencer as well as a few bumps and bruises for those close to the stage and soaked clothes for the rest of the people there when the sprinkler system came on. Not one of his finest moments.

Because he had known the man for years, it wasn’t hard for Spencer to see the small little twitch at the corner of Aaron’s mouth, the only hint at the smile that wanted to break free. “I remember, Reid, and so do they. But it’s been almost three years since then and I and the Bureau are sure that you’ll be able to make it through this convention without any mishaps.” Before Spencer could marshal any protests to that, his Unit Chief kept going, not giving him any chance to try to talk his way out of this. “This is a seminar all about behavioral analysis. The training is specifically designed for street level homicide investigators, sexual assault investigators, crime analysts, coroner investigators, prosecutors, and district attorney investigators. It’s solely for law enforcement personnel. You’re not going to be the _only_ profiler there. Two other profilers from separate teams are going to be there as well.”

“If there are other profilers there, why do they need me?”

“Because you know your job, Reid.” Aaron said calmly and patiently. “You’re good at what you do and you have one of the brightest minds in the BAU. I know that you don’t like to speak in front of crowds and I know that it’s difficult for you. But we need you there. The seminar isn’t solely for going up and speaking in front of people. Officials are being encouraged to bring unsolved homicides or sexual assaults for private case consultations. You’re a great profiler, you’re the best geographical profiler we have, and you have the ability to read through and analyze the information faster than anyone I know. For private consultations like this, you’ve proven in the past that you’re one of the best people to have. You draw in your information and are capable of giving a rudimentary profile that points people in the right direction, even without giving a full profile. You’re also not afraid to speak up when there’s nothing to be found, instead of grandstanding as others can do.”

The praise in those words killed Spencer's protests quicker than anything. He felt his cheeks flush slightly and he dropped his eyes down and off to the side in embarrassment. How could he even try to refuse after that? Aaron was sparing enough with compliments that when he did give them, they meant all the more. There was no way Spencer could bring himself to back away after his boss sat there and showed such confidence in him. Resisting the urge to sigh, Spencer knew his voice was just a little resigned as he asked “When do I leave?”

“The conference starts tomorrow afternoon. Though you don’t speak until the third day, they’d like you there through the whole thing. Garcia booked you a flight out late this afternoon so you’ll have a night to get settled in your room. The seminar’s at the DoubleTree hotel and they’ve booked rooms for all their guests there as well.”

Great. This was just great. Spencer fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to combat the headache that was trying to build. “How long is it?”

“Five days. But, Reid.” Aaron’s expression changed, softening just slightly in that way he only did with his friends. “If you want to take a little more time, all you have to do is ask. Everyone deserves a bit of time off and you haven’t taken any for quite a while.”

Spencer drummed up a smile that he hoped looked sincere. “Thanks, Hotch, but I’m okay.”

The look on his face clearly said that he didn’t quite believe that. He didn’t push it, though. “Well, if you change your mind, just give me a call.”

When Spencer made his way back into the bullpen, he was still slightly dazed. Most people would probably be excited if they were in his shoes. In that moment, Spencer would’ve gladly traded places with any of them. He _hated_ going and speaking at seminars or conferences or whatever the hell they wanted to call the things. Getting up in front of a crowd of people he didn’t know and having to give some stupid speech never failed to terrify him. He just didn’t do well in situations like that! He rambled, babbled, stammered, and generally just made a fool of himself. Or, like last time, he caused major accidents that somehow ended up involving a trip to the hospital. Hadn’t they learned last time not to send him anymore? At the very least, they could’ve sent someone with him this time! Someone he _knew_! Instead, he was the only one off the team going and he was going to have to deal with two other profilers that he probably knew by name only. This was just a disaster waiting to happen.

“You look like someone kicked your dog.” Emily teased him as he went to his desk.

Spencer furrowed his brows slightly and slanted a strange look towards her. What was she talking about? “I don’t have a dog.”

Humor lit her eyes and Derek let out a warm laugh. “I meant you look unhappy, Reid.” She corrected.

Dropping himself down into his chair, he looked at the few files on his desk. He had to get those finished before getting out of here today. That wouldn’t take long, though. An hour, tops. With another sigh he pulled the first one forward and flipped it open. Deliberately he avoided looking at his friends. “They’re sending me to speak at a seminar in New York. I have to leave this afternoon.”

He fully expected the reaction he got. Emily made a surprised sound while Derek openly laughed. Typical. Spencer dropped his head a little lower in hopes of discouraging the teasing he knew was coming. A futile effort, he knew. It only took a moment before Derek started in. “They’re sending you out to speak? I hope you’re up to date on your insurance, kid.”

“Ha ha.” Spencer tried to grumble. His cheeks were heating again, though.

“Maybe we should warn them to hand out umbrellas, huh?”

His blush got even brighter. His baser urges got the best of him and he sent a pen flying through the air at his friend.

Emily took pity on him and his obvious embarrassment. “I’m sure you’ll do fine this time around, Reid. You’ve gotten a lot better at speaking to people.”

 _Yeah, when I have you guys standing there with me_ he thought to himself. It was easy to have a little more confidence when he had a whole team backing him. For this, he was going to be up there on his own. But he didn’t say any of that to them. No need to let them know just how freaked out the idea made him. He didn’t need to hand them any more reason to laugh at him. So he settled for smiling at Emily and saying “Thank you, Emily.”

Dropping his head back down to the file in front of him, he bit his bottom lip and tried not to let out yet another sigh. _You can do this_ he told himself. _You can do this. Just look at it like a bit of a vacation. You only have to speak once. All the other times, you can watch the other speakers. Maybe you’ll learn something new._ Spencer hold on to that thought. Maybe if he said it often enough, it might get rid of the butterflies in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

As much as Spencer hated speaking at these seminars, he did at least love attending them. He had always been one to enjoy knowledge for knowledge’s sake. If there was an opportunity for him to learn something, he usually jumped right in, even if the subject was one he already knew about. Different people carried different viewpoints on things and that different viewpoint might teach him something he didn’t already know. That enjoyment of learning was what he tried to focus on through his flight to New York and through check in at the hotel. He held on to it for that first night and through the next morning when we went downstairs and went through the whole registration process for the seminar itself.

Once he had everything done and had the name badge that they’d given him, pinned on his sweater for everyone to see, he made his way towards the conference rooms that were being used. He didn’t have to speak today, thank God, but there were going to be plenty of people in there and that was something else he didn’t really look forward to. That thought made him laugh slightly at himself. Who would guess that an FBI agent who made his living traveling the country and talking with people and studying human behavior would have such trouble actually being forced to communicate with people? He just, he wasn’t a people person. Not like, say, Derek. Toss that man in a group of people and in five minutes he’d be friendly with most of them. He’d also probably have a pocket full of phone numbers from the ladies. He was just a social, friendly person, and he enjoyed groups like this. He liked to meet new people and make friends. Spencer liked to stay on the sidelines and observe people.

That was effectively what Spencer did for the first day of the seminar. He stayed on the sidelines and observed. This first day was only a half day and most of it was spent with the introductions to things, the discussions of itinerary. They also spent a bit of time reminding the others there that there were only three profilers present here and they would be settling down each day at specified times to review and consult on any of the cases that had been brought out, and they weren’t to be bothered to consult at other times. Spencer had already been given the time and place for the consultations. That was one part that he didn’t mind about this whole thing. That was work and his work was something that didn’t truly make him that nervous anymore. His team had helped him gain confidence in his abilities.

The day passed by pretty quickly. Once, Spencer had spent many a day in classrooms and lecture halls, listening to people talk. As he sat at the seminar he realized how long it had been since he’d been to something for the sole purpose of learning. While he listened to the man at the podium talk about ‘learning from one another and applying the new learnings to your own situations’, his mind drifted a little. It _had_ been a while since he’d attended any classes. Once he’d finished his degree in philosophy, he hadn’t pursued any further degrees. Maybe it was time to do so. But, what? He could always take the psychology degree and start aiming higher. With the experience he had in the field, it might translate well to his classwork. Or, he could go a different route entirely. Forensic anthropology had some potential to it. That might come in handy when out in the field.

When they were released from the seminar for the day, Spencer was still entertaining thoughts of which degree he might like to try for. He discreetly slipped away from the crowds and ducked out of the hotel, planning on going to find himself some dinner. At the moment he didn’t really feel like being in his room and ordering room service. A walk sounded like a good idea and there were plenty of restaurants within walking distance.

He’d only gone about a block when his cell phone rang. Snapping out of his thoughts, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly answered it. “Dr. Reid.”

 _“Hey there, kid._ ” Derek’s warm, laughing voice came over the line, making Spencer smile as well. _“How’s it going out there?”_

“Oh, as well as can be expected. We haven’t actually done much of anything yet. Today’s just the introduction day, planning, all that kind of stuff. Tomorrow is when we’ll really get into things.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes and colored his voice. “You don’t have to check up on me. I know I protested going to this, but I am fine being here.”

Derek laughed. _“Yeah, I know, I know. You’re a big boy and all that. Maybe I’m just jealous you get to take a bit of a break away from here.”_

“Mm hm, I’m sure that’s all there is behind this.” Spencer teased.

_“So, what’s it like? What kind of stuff do they have this time around? Anything worth learning?”_

Derek knew just what questions to ask. While the man had been known to cut Spencer off of his rambles, or to tease him about having lost minutes of his life to babble he couldn’t begin to comprehend, he was also one of the few people who would deliberately trigger one sometimes when he sensed that Spencer needed to just talk. The question he’d just asked sure worked as a trigger. For the next twenty minutes, Spencer gave Derek a rundown of everything that had been talked about today, everything he had to look forward to over the next few days, and what he was most excited about, all interspaced with little comments from Derek that encouraged him to talk more. By the time Spencer wound down, he was sitting at a small table outside a little bistro that he’d come across, enjoying a delicious soup and salad while he watched the city slowly come to life for the night.

Settling back in his chair, Spencer let out a soft sigh. He watched the people strolling past the fenced in outer eating area of the bistro with just a bit of an ache inside. Most of the people that went by seemed to be couples. Dark had settled in and the nightlife was just starting.

His sigh caught Derek’s attention. _“Hey, you okay, Reid?”_

“Hm?” Spencer shook his head to clear out his thoughts. He realized he’d been just sitting there and staring. “Oh. I’m sorry, Morgan. Yes, I’m fine. I just got a little distracted, that’s all.”

_“You sure? You sounded, I don’t know, kind of sad for a second there.”_

Leave it to Derek to pick up on that from a simple sigh and some silence. Spencer knew outright lying to Derek wouldn’t work. Not only was the man a damn good profiler, he was also his best friend and he knew him far better than anyone else in his life right now. Instead, he settled for trying to at least downplay things. “Just thinking old thoughts. You know I get that way sometimes. I’m fine, though, really.”

There was silence on the phone line. For a long moment, Derek said nothing, making Spencer just slightly nervous. When his friend finally did speak, his words left the young genius stunned. _“I wish there was something I could do to help you, Reid. You’re like family to me; you know that. I hate seeing you like this.”_

Both pleased by the compliment and worried by the rest, Spencer was at a loss on how to respond to that. “I don’t know what you mean.” He finally stammered out. It was a weak cover up and they both knew it. Spencer knew that Derek had figured out a long time ago that there was something that Spencer kept private, some pain he wouldn’t speak of. The man was too smart not to have figured it out. He never pressed, though. It was one thing Spencer was grateful for. Derek had offered to listen, had reminded Spencer in countless ways that he was there for him, but he had never pressed the issue with him before.

He didn’t now, either. _“I’m not trying to push you into talking, Reid. But you know I’m not stupid. You’ve been hurting since the day I met you. I used to think that you’d get better as time went on. That the years might help. But they don’t, do they? Whatever this is, it doesn’t go away for you. It doesn’t get better.”_

What could he say to that? Spencer closed his eyes and curled his hand tightly around his empty cup of tea. The truth slipped from him. “No.”

_“I just wish there was some way I could help you.”_

It was the perfect opening for Spencer to talk about this. The perfect opportunity for Spencer to finally break down and tell his friend about the broken part of his soul. A part that, after almost six years now, still hadn’t healed over. Would talking about it help? Would opening that part up for someone to see somehow lessen the pain for him? He’d asked himself those questions countless times before and he never could figure out the answer. Would it be better or worse? Would it relieve the pain, or bring it all bubbling back to the surface? Would it maybe finally ease some of that longing that he felt, or would it only make him notice it more?

Eventually, the silence stretched too long, and Derek sighed into the phone line. _“Okay, kid. Okay.”_ He said gently. _“I won’t press it. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.”_ Another sigh before his voice changed again, losing the serious edge and turning normal, and the moment was lost. _“Anyways, I better go ahead and let you get back to your hotel. It’s time for all good doctors to find their way to bed.”_

Still, even after Spencer had said his goodbyes, those thoughts stayed with him. They stayed with him as he started his walk back towards the hotel. Should he finally open up and talk about this to his friend? He didn’t know if he could. Sometimes it was hard enough to talk to Jean Luc about those things, and the man knew the whole story _and_ he was Remy’s father.  A hint of amusement broke through Spencer's morose thoughts. According to Jean Luc, he wasn’t just Remy’s father. He’d meant it when he’d welcomed Spencer to the family that afternoon they’d met in New Orleans. He often called Spencer ‘son’ when they were talking. And talk they did. Not only did they exchange phone calls a minimum of once a month, they also wrote letters. Spencer had always liked letter writing and Jean Luc was old fashioned enough that mailing a letter was a natural thing for him to do.

Spencer absently lifted a hand, not even noticing it as he caught the chain around his neck and slipped the necklace out from where it always sat hidden under his shirt. His fingers slipped down to fiddle with the ring hanging from the end while his thoughts ran rampant.

Jean Luc firmly believed that things would one day find a way to work out. He often told Spencer that things had a way of happening when one least expected it. “Maybe dere’s a reason y’r not able t’ let go, petit.” He’d told Spencer once. “If y’ were meant to move on, den I t’ink y’ would’ve moved on. Instead, y’ say y’ feel like y’r still just waiting. I like t’ t’ink dat God has a plan fo’ us all. Maybe He just hasn’t showed his plan fo’ y’ yet.”

While Spencer wasn’t religious, he wouldn’t have dreamed of mocking the man’s beliefs, so he hadn’t argued that point. Privately, he just wished that whatever ‘plan’ there was for him, it would happen sometime soon.

He had no idea how prophetic those thoughts were.

He was halfway to the hotel, still mostly lost in his thoughts, when there was a faint little tingle at the base of his skull, a sensation he knew all too well. Years and years of practice had him slipping to the side of the sidewalk closest to the buildings so that he could grab on to something to brace if he had to, and he tensed just slightly, fingers gripping tightly to the ring in his hand as the vision slipped over him.

_Pain. Pain, fear, dark. Can’t move, can’t fight. Held down on the ground. Cold, hard ground at my back, dark up above, and pain. So much pain._

Spencer was already moving before his vision even cleared. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing or how he knew where to go. He didn’t think about the ring still clutched in his hand, or who that ring was connected to. He didn’t think about who the person in his vision could be. He simply ran.

The alley was dark when Spencer spun into it. He was running on purse instinct, letting his abilities guide him in a way he never really had before, open wide to them. With only a brief thought of thanks that he was actually wearing his gun, he yanked it from its holster and held it out as he walked into the alley. Only a few steps in, he saw the image from his visions. The man, lying on the ground, frozen, with the other man above him. There was a glint in the dark, like light reflecting off metal, and Spencer cursed roundly in his head even as he called out and identified himself as he’d been taught to do. “FBI! Drop the weapon!”

The guy looked up through the dark and Spencer felt a sudden attack against his mental walls. There was barely enough time for him to jerk his shields tightly in place around his mind before he felt that presence battering at them. Shit! This guy was a mutant! Spencer clenched his jaw and forced a little more strength into his shields, straining not to break under the pressure, and he called out again “Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air, now!”

Another glint off metal was Spencer's only warning. He saw the metal move, saw just enough to be able to identify it as a knife traveling down towards the still frozen body, and he knew there was only one recourse. With the same regret he always felt when he had to do this, he took aim through the darkness and fired. Whether the man had more powers, or simply amazing reflexes, he reacted quickly and moved just enough that it looked as if the bullet only tore across the outside of his arm. Even as Spencer prepared to take another shot, the man was moving, racing off into the darkness.

There were two choices. He could race off and try to catch the attacker, or care for the victim. There was no real choice at all. With no backup, Spencer had to check the victim. Keeping his gun out, he rushed forward and dropped down to one knee at the victim’s side. With his gun in one hand, ready to defend them if the bastard came back, he reached his other hand out. Then his eyes locked on the face just below his and everything in Spencer's world froze. It literally felt as if time stood still. There, lying on the ground, was a face he knew better than he knew his own. The red and black eyes that stared up at him were just as wide as his own felt. Shock hit him , yet at the same time, he wasn’t surprised. A part of him had known from the instant that vision came in. That part had recognized the feel of who he was seeing through and had known that really, there could only be one person the vision could pertain to. His visions came through touching things, things connected to a person, and the only people connected to that ring around his neck were himself and the man now lying here before him.

Spencer stared down at the beloved face he hadn’t seen in almost six years. His hand trembled over Remy’s chest, unable to draw back, unable to touch. “Remy.” He breathed his name out like a prayer, a near silent whisper in the wind. So lost was he in the moment that he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him.

All of a sudden something grabbed hold of Spencer and he found himself flying, flying through the air, and then he was landing, jolted back to earth with a solid, painful thud, his body pinned against a hard surface. Old and new fear roared to life inside of Spencer. Eyes wide, he stared at the face of the woman right in front of him who was pinning him to the wall, a face full of fury, and he wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything around Spencer seemed to have gone still for one split second. In that moment, he was hyper aware of his surroundings. The sound of music pumping out of the bar nearby. The sound of people walking down the street. Traffic noises. The scratch of the wall against his back, the sore spot where a lump would form on the back of his head from where he’d connected with the wall, the solid arm that was holding him in place like concrete, his gun still in his hand though it was useless right now. He took in the other people that were now in the alley; three others. Another woman and two men other than Remy. He saw fury in the eyes of the woman holding him there, a woman who was far stronger than she appeared. Fury, and a threat to do more. She was sneering at him, lips parted like she was about to speak.

Then the silence around them broke. Reality returned in the blink of an eye. One minute he was frozen there; the next, Remy was flying up off the ground, already crying out “Stop!” as he went.

Spencer swore he was still frozen. He could only watch as Remy darted right up to the woman and grabbed at her arm. “Let him go, Rogue. He aint done not’ing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” The woman spat out in a sweet southern drawl that just sounded so wrong with the temper behind them. “He was kneeling over you with a gun!”

Remy yanked on her arm again and this time she actually let go. He wasted no time in slipping in between her and Spencer. “He was helpin’ Remy!” he snapped. That was as much consideration as he gave her. Remy wasted no more time in spinning around and putting himself face to face with Spencer, putting his back to the woman, this Rogue, and effectively cutting her out. His hands came up, cupping Spencer's head and gently reaching back to feel through his hair. Beautiful, gorgeous eyes locked onto Spencer's. The temper he’d shown to Rogue was gone. In its place were emotions that made Spencer's heart ache. “Spencer, cher, are y’ hurt? Are y’ okay?” Remy asked him worriedly. His hands found the sore spot on Spencer's head and they both made a pained sound. “Y’ are hurt! Dammit! Lemme take a look at dat.”

This was all so surreal. Spencer couldn’t believe it. Was this some sort of dream? Was this really real? All these years, all this time, and here they both were. He couldn’t move. Hell, he felt like he could barely breathe. Remy was here. He was _here_. Right here in front of him, alive. _Touching_ him. Oh, God, Remy’s hands were on him, finishing their check of his head. Could it be real? That touch _felt_ real. Was he just imagining this? The horror of that gripped Spencer. Was this just some delusion? Had he fallen during his vision and hit his head and all this was some huge hallucination? There was only one way he could be sure. Only one way he could convince himself that this was real. Remy’s hands on him weren’t enough. Spencer lifted a shaking hand before he even realized what he was doing. He brought his hand up and paused just a breath away from Remy’s face. He wanted to touch him, had to know if he was really here, but he was terrified. Because if this wasn’t real, he didn’t want the illusion shattered. He wanted to stay here, forever, with those gentle hands on him, and those caring eyes watching him with so much love and concern in them.

The choice was taken out of his hands. Remy leaned his face just slightly to the side, enough to brush against Spencer's fingers. A near silent gasp slipped from the young genius. He pressed his hand a little closer until his whole palm was touching skin. “Remy?” His lips formed the words, though no real sound came out. Still, Remy nodded. “ _Oui,_ Spencer. It’s really me.” Without seeming to realize it, Remy rubbed his cheek over Spencer's hand, nuzzling at the skin there. It was like an electric shock. “I’m real, _mon petit chou_. And so are y’. Y’r really here.”

That wonder and love in those words was what was the final straw. Any control Spencer had held on to was gone. He was going to break apart, right here in the middle of this filthy alley, with these strangers looking on. He was simply going to shatter into thousands of little pieces. The protective walls that he’d built just to be able to make it through the day with this pain inside of him were crumbling into bits. All the love, all the pain, everything that he’d tried so hard to keep control of were now swarming through him. Spencer only had enough room for one more clear, coherent thought. _Run_. He had to get the hell out of here before the last bits of that wall broke. If he didn’t, there would be no chance of escaping. He had to run now, before that happened. Before he broke right here in front of everyone.

A low sound of pain bubbled up from him, an almost wounded-animal sound that had Remy flinching. The Cajun tried to step closer. To do what, Spencer wasn’t sure. He just knew he couldn’t take it. Before he even thought about what he was doing, his hands were moving and he _pushed_ , shoving Remy away from him with more strength than he’d thought he had. Without even pausing for a breath, he shot off to the side and down the alley. The sound of shoes slapping pavement echoed around him as he ran away from there like the hounds of hell were on his tail.

At first he didn’t even realize where he was running to. It wasn’t until he reached the hotel that he realized where he was headed. With great effort, he forced himself to stop running. The last thing he needed to do was run in a full panic through a hotel of law enforcement officers. That would be the same as waving a neon sign over his head declaring himself in trouble. So he slowed to a walk and he kept himself under tight control through the elevator ride up to his room. He held it together until he got to his room and had the door shut behind him. Then, like the proverbial ton of bricks, it hit him. He’d stumbled a few steps into the room when his legs just melted underneath him. He ended up on his knees in the middle of the floor, arms wrapped around his waist. Pain echoed in him. Holding tightly to himself, Spencer rocked slightly in place.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to _feel_. Everything was swirling and churning inside of him. One part of him was still lit up with more joy than he’d known in a long, long time. That had been Remy! His beautiful, sweet Remy. That part of him rejoiced in simply seeing the man. He swore he could still feel the heat from where Remy’s hands had so tenderly ran over his head, checking him over and making sure he was okay. That was the part of him that wanted nothing more than to go back out there and find him again and just climb right into his arms. The rest of him, though…the rest of him couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of anything. Seeing Remy had hurt, like a physical blow. Seeing the one thing in the world he wanted more than anything else and couldn’t have. It was like sticking an alcoholic in the middle of a bar, or laying drugs on a table right in front of a junkie and saying ‘here, have this’. The craving for Remy was stronger than any craving he’d ever had for the Dilaudid.

Spencer felt so stupid. Just seeing him shouldn’t hit like this. It shouldn’t have left him so damn broken and fragile. But it did. He hugged himself tighter and bowed his head. Piece by piece he was coming apart. Why was seeing him like losing him all over again?

In a better frame of mind, Spencer might’ve been more prepared for the sudden knock on his door. He might’ve expected it, even. But he was still too open and raw for him to think of much anything beyond trying to rebuild some kind of control around himself. Enough so that he actually ignored the knock at first. It was only when the person pounded again, harder than before, that he forced himself up from his knees. A few deep breaths and he gathered up the tattered edges of his control. They were thin and flimsy, yet they would be enough to get him through seeing whoever was there and sending them on their way. Gripping tightly to them, he straightened his spine and took hold of the door, pulling it open. His greeting died on his lips at the sight of the man standing there.

Remy stood there for a moment and simply let Spencer stare. Then a corner of his mouth quirked up just the slightest bit. “Y’ gon’ let me in, Spencer?”

* * *

What was he thinking? Spencer stood by the desk against the wall and tried to keep himself under control. Whether he wanted to run again or jump straight for Remy, he wasn’t quite sure. He only knew he couldn’t do either. Neither option was viable right now. He had to stand here and man up. Running away was going to solve nothing. No matter how tempting that small part of him found it to be. The rest of him, though, oh the rest of him wanted something else entirely. Spencer swore his body was vibrating with the growing need to reach out, to just close this little bit of distance between them. He held himself back somehow. He couldn’t stop from drinking in the sight of him, though. God! He looked so, so damn _good_. The same, just, a little older.

Remy had filled out a little over the years, gaining just a bit more mass than before. It looked good on him. He looked like he worked out more. His hair was a little shorter than what Spencer was used to; not by much, though. Thankfully, his sunglasses were on. Spencer didn’t know if he could meet those eyes right now, not while he was still reeling over the rest of him. Remy’s eyes had always gotten to him the most. Most people couldn’t seem to look beyond their startling color enough to realize that they were true windows to Remy’s soul. Everything he felt could be read in them if a person knew where to look. With the sunglasses blocking their view, Spencer looked to the rest of his face, noting that it had sharpened just slightly, aged just slightly. It didn’t make him look _old_. In fact, he still looked indecently young for his age range. It just made him look a little more mature than he had used to. There were things that were the same, though. That hint of stubble on his face, common at this time of night. He grew facial hair so fast. Those full lips, quirked ever so slightly the way they always did. The clothes, too. Those were pure Remy. Well worn, torn jeans, faded at all the stress points, and what looked like what had once been a white silk shirt, overtop which he wore his trademark trench coat.

Seeing the dirt on Remy’s shirt was what really kicked Spencer's brain back into gear. It reminded him of why he’d gone running into that alley earlier and what he’d found. Worry snapped to life in him and had his eyes shooting back up to Remy’s face.

He didn’t even have to ask his question. Remy must’ve been able to read it on his face. “I’m okay.” That whiskey warm voice sent chills down Spencer's spine. Remy’s lips curved just a little more. “Y’ saved m’ life.”

 _Yeah, saved him, and then went and shoved him over_. Spencer winced a little and pushed his hands down into his pockets to try and hold them back. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? When I, ah, when I pushed you?”

“ _Non._ Jus’ stunned me a lil, dat’s all. I’m fine, Spencer.”

Something in Spencer's stomach jumped. It felt like whatever it was, it was doing freaking acrobatics in there. He felt like he was going to hurl. This was just too much. Seeing Remy stand there so damn calm, it was just too much. But the rest of Spencer didn’t seem to agree. He responded the same as he always had to the idea of Remy in pain. “Sit down on the bed and let me take a look. I doubt you let anyone look at it before you tracked me down.” The command came out before he could stop to think about it. He wanted to take the words back almost as soon as he said them. What the hell was he doing? Inviting Remy to sit on his bed—his _bed_!—and demanding to look at him, meaning that he’d have to _touch_ him. _I’m a glutton for punishment_ he thought to himself. _Or I have masochistic tendencies that I’ve never known were there_. Whichever it was, he stood there and waited while Remy gave him a look of amusement. Then, in a smooth move that made Spencer's breath catch in his throat, his Cajun slipped his jacket off and laid it over a chair. Then he moved gracefully forward and folded himself down onto the edge of the bed.

 _Calm_ , Spencer reminded himself. _Control. Calm. Control._ He kept that mantra up and hoped like hell it would work. At least his voice didn’t tremble when he said “What happened back there? B-Before I showed up, I mean.” This was a safer topic. This, he could focus on, anchor himself on.

“Not quite sure.” Remy admitted, cocking his head to the side and watching Spencer as he stepped towards him. He seemed to be taking his cues from Spencer and was keeping this calm as well. Keeping their topic in a safer place than the tension that was buzzing between them. “I stepped outta de bar t’ have a smoke and cause I felt fuzzy headed, y’ know? Had a bit of a buzz going on. I heard somet’in behind me and I tried t’ turn, _mais_ I couldn’t. It was like somet’in was holdin’ me dere. Den I got hit in de back of de head and I went down.”

Spencer had been caught up in listening for a moment, taking note of the way Remy’s voice was changing the more he spoke. His accent, which had been lighter than Spencer remembered when he first started, was thickening a little more with each word until it was back to that thick, mixed accent that Spencer remembered. Remy’s voice had always been so unique to him. A mixture of the street slang he’d acquired those early years on the streets, with hints of different accents from different groups. He’d hung out with different kids from different parts of town, all of whom spoke a little differently, and it left him with a mixture of accents mashed up into one. Then he’d spent years with Jean Luc, and his accent had warmed a little, turned just slightly more Cajun than anything else. Then he’d taken French while living there, and had later on spent time in France, and that changed the sound of his words as well. Those mixtures had left him with an accent that was mostly Cajun and yet uniquely Remy, with his generally improper grammar and a smattering of both Cajun French and proper French thrown in. It was the way he sounded when he let himself just be him, not a part he was playing for someone else. Spencer found himself drawn into it until the last part of what Remy said registered. Then his eyes snapped wide and everything else was forgotten as he quickly moved around to be able to look at the back of Remy’s head.

A quick look showed him a knot already forming back there, with blood drying in his hair. Quick steps took him to the bathroom where he grabbed two towels, wetting one down in the sink before coming back out. “It looks like he caught you pretty well back here. Bend your head down a little for me, please. This is going to hurt.”

He waited until Remy bowed his head slightly and then he stepped up to the edge of the bed, right between Remy’s knees, and he took the wet towel and started to dab at the dried blood. He needed to clear it away so he could be able to look at the damage underneath. Suggesting Remy go to the doctor wasn’t an option here; the man would never go. Spencer never even thought it. He simply did what needed to be done, not even noticing how it steadied him. His hands weren’t shaking anymore and his voice lost its slight tremble. “Can you tell me what happened next?”

A soft hiss slid from Remy when Spencer hit a particularly sore spot. Neither man noticed when Remy leaned in just a little more, his head resting just against Spencer's chest. “M’ head was ringing fo’ a bit.” He finally said, speaking into Spencer's shirt. “I couldn’t move, though, no matter how hard I tried. It was like dere was dis heavy weight inside me, holdin’ me dere. I couldn’t do a t’ing when he dragged me down de alley a bit t’ de darker part. He was ranting and rambling, crazy shit, and he pulled dat knife out and was waving it over me, ranting away. Dat’s when y’ showed up.”

Spencer paused with the towel lightly pressed over the wound on Remy’s head. He closed his eyes briefly and gave a moment of thanks for his powers. A tremor ran down him. It was terrifying to think that he could’ve lost Remy today without even realizing it. That, if he hadn’t had his vision and raced away to save him, that man might’ve got a chance to actually use his knife. The thought was utterly terrifying. Living without Remy was so hard; living in a world without him in it? Just thinking on it had Spencer's insides twisting. He bent himself just slightly, curving himself around Remy’s head like he could shelter him here and keep him safe. Hands settled on his hips, the familiar warmth and weight of them only serving to make Spencer's heartache and love both grow.

He felt as Remy’s face shifted, tipping up just the slightest bit. Then he felt as Remy’s nose rubbed against him and he nuzzled at Spencer's chest. He could hear as Remy drew in a deep breath like he was trying to breathe Spencer in. The hands on Spencer's hips gave a small squeeze. “Ah, _Dieu_ , Spencer.” Remy murmured to him. “I can’t believe it’s y’. I’ve missed y’ so much.”

Those were the words that Spencer had longed to hear for so long. They thrilled him straight down to his soul. Yet at the same time, they arrowed through him, sharp and painful. Spencer wanted to reach down and cup Remy’s face. Tip it up so that he could press their lips together. He wanted to tell him with his body what he had such a problem saying with words. Somehow, he found the strength to hold back. Somehow, he made his brain start functioning again.

This was dangerous territory. Self-preservation has Spencer backing off in a lot of ways. “Don’t.” He whispered. He pulled back, looking down at Remy’s now upturned face, and then he drew back even more, taking two full steps backwards. He needed that space. There was no way he could think with them that close together. That close to him, all Spencer wanted to do was throw himself at the man, climb on top of him and into his arms where everything had always felt so good and safe. Then he could pretend, even for a little while, that the rest of this shit wasn’t waiting for them. That there wasn’t six years of pain sitting between them.

Remy’s expression turned pained at Spencer's retreat. “Spencer…”

He quickly cut off that sweet, sad voice before it could break his resolve. “Don’t.” He repeated. “Please, just don’t. I can’t…I can’t do this right now. I can’t deal with this, not right now.” _Please don’t touch me right now. I can’t handle it if you touch me. I can’t handle you talking to me like this, saying my name that way. I can’t handle the love in your eyes. If you touch me again, if you say my name so sweetly, I’m afraid I’ll break apart like cheap glass and I don’t know if anything in the world would be able to put me back together again._

It seemed the years hadn’t dulled Remy’s ability to listen to Spencer's words and hear all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say. The Cajun stared at him for a long moment like he was reading something on his face. Then he gave a short nod. His eyes stayed on Spencer. “Okay, Spencer.” He paused, something passing over his face, there and gone again before Spencer could read it. Then he surprised Spencer completely by asking “Will y’ meet me fo’ lunch tomorrow?”

Lunch? He was asking about _lunch_? Spencer fought back the laugh that he was afraid would come out a little hysterical. Here he was, riding this insane emotional roller coaster, and Remy was asking him about _lunch_? Was he insane? He opened his mouth to say…what, he wasn’t quite sure. What came out was “Okay.” Yeah, sure, anything. Anything, to end this before he did something he couldn’t take back. Before he jumped the man and never let go. Before he came apart at the seams right here.

He watched Remy nod again and felt twin surges of relief and pain when the man rose from his seat and pulled his coat back on. Spencer stood frozen and watched as Remy made his way over to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, turning to give Spencer one last look with that gaze that saw so much, too much. “Until tomorrow, cher.”

 _Don’t go_ , Spencer wanted to beg. Instead, he stood there holding on to himself, holding himself together, and he nodded. “Tomorrow.” He stayed there as he watched Remy walk out that door, this memory merging with the last time Remy had walked out of his life.

He made it to the bathroom in just enough time to empty his stomach.

* * *

The night felt almost like a dream. Remy sat in one of his many hiding spots on the roof of the Mansion, staring up at the stars above as he thought through everything that had happened tonight. He’d come here after he’d left Spencer's hotel room, stil moving around like he was dreaming. Moving and reacting but not really _feeling_. Not until he had found himself here, slipping past everyone and sneaking up to his ‘thinking spot’. Here, stretched out on the rooftop, a cigarette in hand, he stared up at the sky and tried to put everything in order.

It wasn’t the attack that was foremost in his mind. He’d lived too much of his life with people trying to kill him for one little event to really scare him. Later, he’d deal with this the same as he’d deal with it any other time.

No, it wasn’t the important thing right now. What was important was the man who had saved him. The man who he hadn’t expected to see when he’d looked up to from that alley floor.

Seeing Spencer had been like getting sucker punched. When Rogue had slammed Spencer against the wall, Remy had reacted purely on instinct. All of his good intentions, all the reasons he’d stayed away, just faded away. Without thought he’d leapt up and separated the two. Then he’d turned and did the one thing guaranteed to wipe any resistance out of his mind; he’d touched him. All of the love he’d ever felt for the young man had filed him from head to toe. Seeing it reflected back at him in Spencer's eyes had been yet another blow. When had anyone ever looked at him like Spencer did?

He’d been too caught up in everything to react quick enough when Spencer's panic hit. Then the man had shoved him and run and what else could Remy do? As soon as he recovered, he shot off after him, totally ignoring the shouts from his friends. He’d raced after Spencer, chasing him down, following him to his hotel. That was how he’d found out just _why_ Spencer was here in town. There were signs in the hotel lobby talking about the law enforcement seminar. Remy had pulled on his sunglasses to hide his eyes and then he’d made his way to the front desk. By the time he’d gotten inside, Spencer was nowhere in sight, and Remy knew he had to find him. So he’d put his charm to work and managed to convince the woman at the desk to direct him to Dr. Reid’s room. And, without even thinking his actions through, he’d gone right up.

Groaning, Remy let his body flop back against the roof. “ _Merde._ Stupid fuckin’ idiot.” He cursed himself. He laid there and stared straight up at the stars.

What on earth had he been thinking, asking Spencer to lunch? How many times was he going to have to burn himself before he realized that he shouldn’t touch the fire? It was a stupid idea. A stupid plan. There was no way he could do this. He couldn’t go and sit across from the man and eat lunch with him like they were just two old friends. There was just no way he could do this!

 _Can you really stop yourself_?

That was a much more honest question. It had been so hard to stay away from Spencer all these years. He’d taunted himself, made it so much harder, by going and checking on him. Quick little visits to Spencer's apartment when he was sure the man wasn’t home. Just to walk through the place that was his, see his things, touch them. To feel connected to him, even for just a moment.

The first time he’d done it, it had been while Spencer was gone on his first case with the BAU. Remy had justified his little breaking and entering by telling himself that he was only doing it to test the security of Spencer's apartment. After all, if he was going to leave the man on his own, he needed to make sure he was safe, right? That was what he told himself. He’d rationalized it and pumped himself up until he was convinced he was in the right. All of that had faded away with the first step through the door. Remy remembered that he’d shut the door quietly behind him and he’d just stood there for who knew how long. The place hadn’t even been fully unpacked yet. Quite a bit of it was still in boxes that were lying here or there. But what was unpacked was pure Spencer. Already, the place had carried the feel of him.

Remy had wandered through every inch of the apartment. The hardest part came when he reached the bedroom. When he saw the bed— _our bed_ —with the familiar black sheets. Later, he’d be embarrassed by it, but he’d laid down on that bed for almost an hour, just breathing in his love’s scent.

Over the years he’d dropped in the apartment a few times. He made sure the security on the place was decent, adding a new deadbolt to the door as well as a chain lock. There was no doubt that Spencer knew that he came through. He knew even before Remy made those changes. A few times, he’d left things for him. Little gifts that sat on the table where he knew Remy would see them. Each time Remy saw them, he told himself that he had to stop this. He’d walked away from Spencer. He’d shut him out of his life to keep him safe. By coming back like this, he was just prolonging the pain for both of them. He had to move on. He had to let Spencer move on. There was no future for them. Each time, he told himself he’d leave the gift there. A silent sort of ‘goodbye’. And each time, he found himself slipping the gift into his pocket. They were always little things, things easily carried. Things easily taken with him. A braided leather bracelet, once, with little silver bits of metal. Something he knew Spencer would never wear himself. Another time, a book of poetry, one they’d used to enjoy together.

Giving another groan, Remy rubbed his hands over his eyes. He didn’t know what the hell to do here. Should he go to lunch tomorrow and lay things out plain, make it clear that this time, goodbye really meant goodbye? His circumstances hadn’t changed. His life was still dangerous. More so, now that he was a part of the X-Men. Not to mention that Spencer was a Fed. There was no way their lives could mesh together! It would be better for them both to acknowledge that they finally had to let go. Right?

His thoughts circled round and round. By the time the sun rose on the horizon, by the time he knew he had to go inside to make his morning training session in the Danger Room, he was no closer to having an answer.


	5. Chapter 5

Remy didn’t make it to his training session in the Danger Room. He knew he’d catch hell for it later from Scott; the man was anal to the extreme about making it to those things. So help you if you were even a minute or two late. Naturally, Remy made it a point to be at least five minutes late on a regular basis. But missing one altogether? He’d get his ass reamed for it later on. A lecture, to be sure, and most likely some form of ‘punishment’, probably in the guise of extra chores. Remy knew all of that and dismissed it all from his mind with just a shrug of his shoulder. There were other, more important things to be done. He didn’t have time for training this morning. He’d sat up all night trying to figure things out, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do, and he still hadn’t managed to figure it all out. However, he did know _one_ thing—he had to see Spencer again. He had to go to that lunch and at least talk to him.

About the time he should’ve been making his way down to the Danger Room—at least, if he was someone who went on time—he was on his bike on the way to the city.

The first place he went was Spencer's motel. A quick, scrawled note, handed off to a pretty lady at the desk, and then he was back out on his bike and weaving his way through morning traffic. It took him a little longer than normal to get to his condo. By the time he arrived, he already had two missed calls on his cellphone. Even as he was letting himself into the condo, another call came in. One look showed him that it was Scott. Rolling his eyes, he ignored the call and then simply turned his phone off. The last thing he wanted was to listen to that blowhard bitch at him. Much better to let him do it later, face to face. Then Remy could get some enjoyment out of it. He could slouch back as insolently as possible in his chair and watch that muscle in Scott’s jaw tick as his temper climbed. The man had to have huge dentist bills for how often he clenched his jaw and ground his teeth together.

Remy chuckled to himself as he went back to his bedroom. He shed his clothes and tossed them in the backset before making his way to the bathroom. A shower, a bit of grooming, and then he’d find himself something to wear. Maybe the white pants, with the dark red shirt and that tailored, black trench over it all?

As he climbed into the shower and plotted out his afternoon, he didn’t notice the broad smile on his face or the way he hummed through the whole shower.

* * *

Though he’d been sure it would be impossible, Spencer was surprised to find that he passed out completely after he cleaned up once Remy was gone. Not only passed out, but slept straight through until his morning alarm. His brain had apparently had too much and shut down on him out of self-preservation. The plus side was that was well rested and alert when morning rolled around. The downside? He couldn’t stop thinking about things now that he was awake. Even if he’d wanted to forget it, the note left at the front desk for him would’ve put an end to that. They brought it to him with his morning order of coffee. One look and he recognized Remy’s elegant scrawl. Inside the folded paper was written _DeGrezia Ristorante, 231 E 50th St, 1:00 p.m. – R_

It took a second for him to remember that he’d agreed to meet Remy for lunch. As he read the note again, he cursed himself. What had he been thinking? Meeting Remy for lunch was a horrible idea!

 _You know what you were thinking_ his mind taunted him.

Yeah, he did. He was thinking that it was Remy that was inviting him out and there was nothing in the world he could really refuse that man. If Remy had asked him to come home with him last night, Spencer knew he would’ve gone. He would’ve walked right out that hotel room door with him and gone. Even with as scared and as close to breaking as he’d been, he still would’ve gone. It was scary to think someone had that much power over him. Once, it had been natural. That was just how things were. Remy had been the very center of Spencer's universe and it was normal and natural that he would do anything for him. Now, though…now, they’d been apart for so long, had made their own lives, and Spencer was just a little unsettled to realize that he hadn’t quite gone as far from his younger self as he’d thought. He had thought he was older now, different. That life had changed him from who he was. Just a few precious moments in Remy’s company and he realized just how much of the boy still lived in the man.

Spencer was pretty much useless through the morning. He sat there and listened as the seminar’s morning speaker talked about the difference between what the public considered a sadist and what signs of a true sadist were. But, really, his mind wasn’t on the subject at all. Luckily, it was a subject he knew quite well. That allowed him to listen with only half an ear. The rest of his mind was focused on last night’s events. His analytical brain went over every detail from the minute the vision started until that last moment when Remy walked out of the hotel room. And he thought about their up and coming lunch date. Boy, did he think about that. How could he not?

Was this lunch date something big and important? Or was it just two people reconnecting a little? Maybe Remy just wanted a chance to talk to him, to hear about how his life had been going. Even as Spencer had that thought, he shot it down. It didn’t make any sense. He knew for a fact that Remy had kept tabs on him over the years. The man had stopped by his apartment periodically! Was it really that big a leap to think that Remy might’ve kept tabs on him in other ways? The man was connected in so many different places it was probably no effort at all to find out about how things were going in Spencer's life. If he wanted, he could probably get weekly freaking reports!

By the time lunch rolled around, Spencer had tied his insides up in knots. He was half excited and half afraid to go. Nothing could stop him, though. He never even contemplated canceling. Despite the way his stomach twisted and rolled with his nerves, the thought to cancel or not show never even entered his mind. He showed up at the restaurant five minutes before one, early as always, and his heart gave a little skip when he saw that Remy was already there waiting for him.

Spencer had quite an extensive vocabulary, was known to go into detail on something to the extent that what should’ve only taken a minute to say could end up taking almost fifteen, and yet when he saw Remy at that table, all he could think was _Yum_. How was it that the man managed to look more appetizing than any of the food in this place? He was sitting back in his chair, those long legs of his encased in a pair of white slacks and crossed at the knee. His shirt was tailored, too. It had to be to fit as well as it did. And it was that shade of red that Spencer loved so much on him. A shade that perfectly matched his eyes. That’s what would make this whole image complete; if he could just see Remy’s eyes. But being in public meant that the sunglasses were on to keep his eyes sheltered from the public. To make up for it, though, his hair was loose around his face, giving Spencer the urge to run his fingers through it just as he used to.

Abruptly, Spencer became aware that Remy was looking at him, watching him stare. Not just watching, but preening under Spencer's gaze. His chin had lifted a little and he’d thrown his shoulders back the slightest bit. Remy always had been one to enjoy being admired. He liked the attention. If the smile curving those sinful lips was anything to go by, he still enjoyed it.

It was a little embarrassing to be caught staring, though. Spencer fought not to blush wildly. Gathering what composure he had, he made his way over towards the table. Of course, Remy rose right as he got there, one smooth, fluid move that only served to make Spencer's heart beat a little faster. “Y’ came.” Remy’s voice was a low, pleased sort of purr and it hummed across Spencer's nerves. He reached out with both hands and took hold of Spencer's, drawing them up and pressing a kiss against the knuckles on each one.

So much for not blushing. Spencer felt it heat his cheeks as Remy let go of his hands and pulled his chair out for him. It was a familiar move, one he thought nothing of. He sat down and let Remy slide the chair in for him. He regained his composure enough to finally respond to the words while Remy went back around to his own chair. “Of course I came.” Spencer finally answered. “I said that I would.”

“True. And y’ve always been a man of y’r word.” Remy agreed.

A waiter came over to their table then and conversation was cut off for the practical things. They let him run through his little spiel and his list of specials and then Remy slanted a look towards Spencer, cocking a brow at him. “Y’ still trust me t’ order fo’ y’?”

Once upon a time, it had been quite common for Remy to order for the both of them. He knew the things Spencer liked, knew what he _didn’t_ like, and Spencer had never really been the adventurous type, never one to order things he hadn’t ever had before, so Remy would order things that he thought Spencer might like in an effort to get him to try new things. Rarely, if ever, had he been wrong. Spencer's lips curved a little with the warmth of those memories and he nodded. What Remy ordered for them, he had no idea. He got a little caught up in just watching him and listening to the low husky sound of his voice. Hearing it was both pain and pleasure. The more time he spent around Remy, the more it was going to hurt when he walked away again.

He’d thought that maybe he could get through this lunch quickly and simply. That he could hold on tight to the shields he’d rebuilt around himself last night and use them to make it through this. Because there was no way Remy was going to stick around after this, was there?

Over the years Spencer had built these walls inside of himself. Walls to keep people out. Walls that kept him safe. Not to say that he didn’t feel things; he most definitely did. The tiny bit of empathy that came with his visions wouldn’t let him stay cut off from emotions. But he’d built thick, solid walls around the innermost parts of himself so that, while he felt things, they couldn’t get deep enough to truly touch him. They couldn’t hurt him. Too many times in life he’d been hurt. Too many rejections and disappointments and betrayals had left him scarred and scared. What else could he do but protect what little he had left? After Remy left him, he’d built those walls even higher, needing to keep everyone and everything out. Because he didn’t know if he could survive that kind of pain ever again.

Only, watching him now, looking at Remy’s smiling face, the truth came through blindingly bright. Remy wasn’t standing outside those walls with the rest of the world. Somehow, he was inside them. He was twined so tightly around Spencer's very core that there was no separating them. Spencer had tried to build the walls up stronger after Remy left. He’d tried to do that even more last night after he’d come so close to shattering into pieces. Instead, somehow, he’d built them up with his partner inside, right there with him, a part of who he was. No walls could keep Remy out. Not when he’d already found his way in there. Hell, he hadn’t _found_ his way in. He’d simply waltzed right in there from day one like he owned the place.

Spencer had learned young to keep everyone at a distance. Physically, emotionally. His father had never been the touching type and his mother had tried, but there were far too many days that Spencer remembered her lashing out at him while caught in her delusions, not even realizing that the person she struck out at was her own child. There’d been no one else around to teach Spencer the benefit of positive touching. He’d grown up keeping to himself in every way that mattered. Yet from day one, Remy had seen right through that. He’d gotten up close and personal with Spencer from the get go, like he couldn’t even see the walls that he had up. He strolled in, right past the ‘keep out’ signs, right past the shyness and the fear, and he brought his own sort of light to the darkest places in Spencer.

It was a startling revelation to have sitting here in a public restaurant. Spencer fought to push all those thoughts down. Later, he could think about that. When he was alone in his room was soon enough. For now, he needed to stay focused and keep his attention here. That was the only way he was going to be able to make it through this lunch and whatever was going to happen here.

Their order was taken and drinks were served before the two men spoke to one another again. Spencer cradled the glass of wine in his hand and let his eyes drift around the restaurant, trying to look at anything but the gorgeous man across from him. “This place is nice.” He finally said, trying to find something to break the silence.

Remy’s smile warmed a little more. “I thought y’ might like it. Y’ always did like Italian food.” He paused, taking a small sip off his own wine, and suddenly his expression focused a little and Spencer knew that those sharp eyes behind the sunglasses were fixed on him. “How’re y’ doin’ t’day, cher?”

Hearing the concern in Remy’s voice put a warm feeling inside Spencer. He looked down at his glass and shrugged one shoulder, trying for nonchalant. “Me? I’m fine.”

“Y’ sure? De way y’ looked when I left…I was worried about y’.”

Now that had Spencer looking up. He hadn’t expected that, though he should’ve. Remy had always been blunt and honest with him about things. Still, “You were worried about _me_? I wasn’t the one attacked last night. How are _you_ , Remy?”

“I’m okay, thanks t’ y’. Barely a mark on me.” Remy’s lips curved even more. “M’ hero. We never got around t’ talkin’ about it last night, though. I take it y’ had a vision?”

“Yeah.” Spencer lifted his hand to his shirt before he realized it. When he saw Remy look to his hand, he flushed a little at being caught. Then, because he knew Remy wouldn’t just drop the topic, he sighed and reached underneath the collar of his shirt to pull on the chain there. His cheeks grew even redder as he pulled the necklace out and held it up enough that Remy would be able to see the ring on the end. “I was walking and fiddling with this when it hit me. When it cleared, I was already running. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just reacted.”

Surprise flashed over Remy’s face. Spencer heard his soft little gasp. Remy was staring at the ring there like he couldn’t quite believe it. “Y’ kept it.” He murmured. His voice had gone huskier with emotion. “I can’t believe y’ kept it, all dese years. Ah, Spencer.”

Hearing that tone to his voice sent a pang through Spencer's heart. Spencer curled his hand around the ring, clenching it in his fist. Words rose unbidden to his lips and he couldn’t stop them from spilling out. “What is this, Remy? What are we doing?”

If his question surprised the other man, it sure didn’t show. For a second Remy was quiet. Then he set his glass down on the table and let out a sigh. “De hell if I know.” He said honestly, shrugging one shoulder. Folding his arms on the table, he leaned forward and watched Spencer's face, his expression turning serious. “All I know is dat it feels right t’ be here, with y’. It…it feels like _home_.”

Those brutally honest words triggered an honesty in Spencer. “For how long?” The words were out before he could stop them. He saw Remy flinch, saw the pain flash over his face, and he almost took the words back. Almost. But they were too important; _this_ was too important. Gathering his courage, he swallowed down the lump in his throat. “What happens the next time there’s a threat against me? Or the next time that you feel like I’d be safer somewhere else? What happens then?”

“ _Je ne sais pas_.” Remy said honestly.

The sudden ringing of a cell phone cut them off. Spencer almost jumped a mile at the sound. Cheeks flushing a little with embarrassment at being so startled, he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. A quick look at the caller ID showed him it was Derek. Any other time and Spencer would’ve excused himself to take the call, just to check to see if maybe it was something important. But not this time. This, here, was important. If it was important, Derek would call back. If it was work related, Aaron would’ve been the one to call. Reminding himself of that, Spencer pressed the button to silence his phone and he stuck it back in his pocket.

“Y’ can go take dat if y’ have to.” Remy said, inclining his head towards Spencer's pocket.

Spencer shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It was just Morgan. If it’s important, he’ll call back.”

“Y’ sure?”

There was something in Remy’s voice, like an off note in the tone. It had Spencer looking up at him curiously. Though Remy still had his sunglasses on, the rest of his face was set in an expression that Spencer remembered clearly. He’d gone over his memories of his years with Remy so many times he knew them detail by detail. This look was one he’d seen quite a few times and it was one he hadn’t expected to see now. Surprised, he sat back in his seat. “Remy…are you jealous?”

Though Remy instantly scoffed, that look was still on his face, a direct contrast to his words. “I’m not jealous.” He denied, sounding almost offended.

“You are!” Spencer couldn’t believe it. Remy was jealous? Of _Derek_? There was a tiny part of Spencer that actually thrilled a little at that knowledge. A part that crowed _He has to still care to feel jealous!_ But the rest of him couldn’t quite believe it. “Remy, he’s just a friend. A very good friend, yes, but still just a friend.”

Almost against his will, it seemed, Remy responded. “We was just _amis_ at one point, too.”

“Yes, we were.” Spencer said slowly. His point?

For a second there was a small debate that he could read in Remy’s facial cues. Then the expression changed and Remy blurted out “Are y’ sleepin’ wit’ him?”

The question threw Spencer off for one second. Then shock washed away under a wave of temper and had Spencer sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “Excuse me?”

Remy’s body language turned just a little defensive. “I’m just askin’.”

“It’s none of your business.” Spencer couldn’t believe this! How dare Remy sit there and have the audacity to ask him something like that? “You’ve got no right asking that, and no right sounding so upset. Are you going to try and tell me that you’ve been celibate for the past six years?” he countered furiously. The look on Remy’s face was answer enough. “I thought not. And I never expected it of you. I never would’ve dreamed of expecting it. So how dare you have the audacity to ask me that question?”

“It’s just a simple question.”

“No, it’s not.” More anger than Spencer knew he’d carried came boiling up. He couldn’t believe this! He forgot his usual embarrassment, forgot completely that they were in a public place as he stared at Remy.  “Does it even matter if I am, Remy? Would it make you feel better if I said yes, we’re sleeping together? Maybe it might absolve some of that guilt you carry around. You think it be easier for you if I told you that I dated? That I slept with anyone and everyone that would have me?” He gave a harsh laugh and pushed his chair back, throwing his napkin down on the table. Temper that he never usually let free was carrying him away with a daring he didn’t usually have. It mixed with the hurt inside, giving him a pained expression that had Remy frozen. His very voice throbbed with it all. “I could say that, but it’d be a lie. You’ll just have to live with your guilt, Remy. There’s no one else. There never has been and there never will be. I haven’t touched another person that way since the you left.” Pushing up out of his chair, Spencer dug a few bills out of his pocket and tossed them down on the table. “Thanks for lunch. I’ve got to get back to the convention.”

Temper carried him straight out the door, leaving a shell shocked Remy at the table staring after him.

* * *

How dare he? Spencer was still seething about things by the time he got back to his room that night. How dare Remy actually sit there and ask him if he was sleeping with Derek? Not just ask, but practically demand an answer right there in the middle of a restaurant! Who the hell did he think he was?

Temper was never an emotion that Spencer had handled very well. He didn’t like being angry. He didn’t like feeling this way. But he had no idea how to handle this. He shouldn’t feel this angry! The question was pure Remy. Jealous, possessive bastard that he was. Over and over Spencer told himself that it shouldn’t bother him. But it _did_. It didn’t just bother him, it hurt and it pissed him off. So he was angry, hurt, feeling guilty about hurting, and confused about what the hell he ought to do. His mind was racing with countless different thoughts that just seemed to swirl and dance through his mind without ever resolving into anything. For once, he wished he had someone to talk to. Someone who could think clearly and maybe help him figure this out. The only thing was, the only person he’d ever trusted enough to get this open with was the very person at the root of it all!

He’d been pacing his room for a good ten minutes when he realized he _did_ have someone to talk to. Someone who knew the story and whom he’d come to trust. Before he could stop to think about it, Spencer yanked out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. It only took a few rings before that cultured, smooth voice came over the line, greeting him with a happiness that Spencer still couldn’t believe sometimes was directed at him. “ _Spencer! About time y’ called, petit. I was beginning to wonder about y’._ ” Jean Luc greeted him cheerfully.

That happy voice filled with a steady strength that Spencer had come to realize wasn’t going to falter on him was enough to have him stopping his pacing. He closed his eyes and let himself sink down on to the bed. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things have been hectic lately.”

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” Jean Luc said immediately, his voice sharper and more serious. “ _Are y’ hurt, Spencer?_ ”

“No, I’m not hurt.” _Not the way you’re thinking_ , he corrected mentally. A sigh ran through him and he felt his shoulders slump. “I don’t know what to do, Jean Luc. I didn’t know who else to call.”

_“Tell me what’s going on.”_

So, Spencer did. He stuttered and stammered and tripped his way through it, but he told Jean Luc everything from the moment he’d first found out about having to come to this seminar, right up to those last angry words with Remy in the restaurant. By the time he was done, he was lying flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling utterly drained. “I don’t know what to do.” He repeated, sighing. “I don’t know how to act, here. One minute I’m ready to throw myself at him and the next I find myself wanting to throttle him.”

Jean Luc’s reply surprised him. “ _He deserves it, Spencer. How dare he ask y’ somet’ing like dat? I raised him wit’ better manners dan dat! He deserves a kick in de ass._ ”

Though he partially agreed, Spencer still found himself trying to defend Remy. “No, no…”

“Oui, he does, Spencer, and y’ know it. In y’r heart, y’ know it!” Jean Luc interrupted fiercely. “ _Y’ve got a right t’ y’r anger. He didn’t have any call t’ talk t’ y’ dat way. He left y’, Spencer_.”

“To keep me safe.”

“ _True. Dat doesn’t take away from de hurt, though. Y’ were in a horrible place in y’r life, y’ were hurting, y’ needed him, and he left y’. Instead of staying around and fighting fo’ y’, he left. Left y’ t’ heal on y’r own, left y’ t’ pick up de pieces of y’r life and start all over. He left y’ when y’ were injured and traumatized. Of course y’r angry wit’ him! I’d be more worried about y’ if y’ weren’t. Don’t blunt y’r feelings, petit. Y’ve got a right t’ what y’ feel. If he comes back around, don’t just let him off de hook. Make him work fo’ dis._ ”

“He’s not going to come around. Why would he? He asked me a simple question and I blew up in his face.” Spencer clenched his eyes shut and gripped tightly to the phone. “I don’t know what to do.”

“ _First t’ings first, y’ take care of y’rself_.” The man’s voice was firm, a solid anchor for Spencer to grab on to. One that he’d come to learn would hold him up when he needed. “ _Y’ always put everyone else first, petit. Dis time, y’ need t’ put y’rself first. What do y’ want? Not what y’ t’ink others want, or what y’ t’ink y’ should want. What does Spencer Reid want_?”

That answer was easy. Everything else aside, all the pain and the confused emotions and everything, one want ran through them all. “I want him.”

Jean Luc made a happy little sound. “ _Den de rest of it will fall into place. Y’r angry at him and like I said, y’r right fo’ dat. He needs t’ know y’r angry and hurt, Spencer. He needs t’ know how badly he broke y’r trust. And he needs t’ earn dat back. No matter how much y’ want him, if he’s not ready t’ see de mistakes he made and not ready t’ make amends fo’ dem, den y’ll need t’ let go. Y’ deserve better dan dat_.”

The firm words stunned Spencer. The man was talking about his own _son_ here! Spencer had been sure that, when push came to shove, Jean Luc would side with Remy. It was only right; Remy was his son. He should stick up for him and defend him, right? Yet Jean Luc was actually telling him to make Remy work for this and to walk away if he didn’t. He’d been so sure the man would try to convince him to calm down, to listen to Remy and stop being so mad. To give his boy another chance. This…this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. “Jean Luc…”

A warm chuckle sounded in his ear. “ _Surprised y’, did I? Listen, I may be an old man now, Spencer, but dat don’t mean I can’t see de truth dat’s right in front of me. Remy being m’ son doesn’t mean I’m blind t’ de fool’s faults. He’s stubborn, pigheaded, arrogant, and too self-sacrificing fo’ his own good. Being wit’ him is going t’ take de patience of a saint_.” He let out another warm laugh. “ _Fo’ all dat, I love de boy with all m’ heart. He’s m’ greatest frustration and m’ greatest pride and joy. I want him t’ be happy and y’ make him happy, Spencer. He’s never denied dat_.” His voice changed a little, turning just a bit softer, a bit warmer. “ _But I’ve come t’ love y’ too, m’ boy. Dat means dat I want what’s best fo’ y’, too, even if dat isn’t wit’ Remy_.”

He had no idea what to say to that. Spencer's throat was clogged with emotion. “I, I…thank you.”

“ _Anytime, Spencer. Anytime._ ”

A sudden beep in Spencer's ear cut them both off. He pulled the phone away and saw an incoming call from a number didn’t recognize. He brought the phone back to his ear. “Can I call you back later, Jean Luc? I’ve a call coming in and I don’t recognize the number.”

The man quickly assured him that it was fine and seconds later, Spencer was pressing the button to answer the other call. “Dr. Reid.” He answered.

There was quiet for just a second and then came the last voice Spencer had thought to hear. “ _Y’ sound awfully professional, answering de phone dat way.”_

Surprise lit Spencer. He sat up, staring at the wall opposite him while his mind jumped gears, trying to process this. “How’d you get this number?” He blurted out.

Remy let out a low, husky chuckle that managed to make Spencer shiver, even over the phone like this. “Really, cher?”

Of course. Spencer let out a laugh of his own, some of his tension melting despite himself. “Silly me. I don’t know why I asked.” He shook his head even though he knew Remy couldn’t see him. Only by sheer will did he manage to keep his voice somewhat serious, though. He wasn’t going to let Remy off the hook that easily. Just because the man could make him smile like no one else was no reason to just give in and forget that he was mad. “A more accurate question would be, why are you calling, Remy?”

“ _I was gonna come t’ y’r room, mais I wasn’t sure y’d want t’ see me_.” Remy said honestly.

Spencer made a soft, humming sound, not quite agreement but not a denial. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

He didn’t have to come up with anything. Remy just kept going, surprising Spencer yet again. “ _Je suis désolé, Spencer. I was outta line t’day_.”

Well, well. Spencer adjusted a little on the bed, getting himself comfortable. Remy could sulk like there was no tomorrow, but when he got past that and was ready to talk, he had always really opened up and talked honestly. Spencer made himself give the same courtesy. He didn’t deny what he’d felt or how Remy had acted. He simply said “Yes, you were.”

“ _I just…I got jealous_.”

“And possessive.”

“ _Oui_ , _dat too_.” There was the sound of a drawn in breath and then a soft exhale that Spencer knew meant Remy was smoking. Oh, boy. This conversation had just gotten even more serious. Spencer waited, somehow knowing that Remy was just gathering his thoughts, trying to get up the courage to say something. He didn’t have a long wait. Just a minute later, Remy was speaking again. “ _I don’t know what t’ do here, Spencer. Seeing y’ last night, it was like a shot t’ de heart. M’ head knows why I kept us apart. De rest of me is screamin’ t’ get m’ ass t’ y’r hotel and never let y’ go. I don’t know which one t’ listen to_.”

As always, Remy’s openness with his emotions left Spencer stunned and just a little speechless. He’d never been able to match that. His Cajun had always been so open with him, always frank about what he felt. He had a way of putting things into words that made it seem so easy. Yet, whenever Spencer tried to replicate it, he always came up short. He could never get that frank. Still, he had to say _something_. “I can’t help you make that decision, Remy. You have to be the one to make it. You have to decide if we’re worth it to you to try again, or if you want to walk away.”

“ _What do y’ want_?”

Talking about his feelings was never something that was easy for Spencer. He’d been conditioned for far too long to block away what he felt and to not admit to any kind of weakness. That talking about ‘feelings’ was something that sissies did. Those lessons were too ingrained to break completely. But for this, for him and Remy, he could try. He had to try.  “You know what I want. I told you, six years ago. Whether you want me or not, I’m yours. I always will be. But…” Pausing, he drew in a breath, trying to draw in courage as well. “I need you to decide, because I can’t do this. I can’t see you, talk with you, go out to lunch with you and just, just have to act like we’re old friends. I can’t look at you and…and see what I can’t have. Either you want me in your life, all the way, or I need you to…to w-walk away. Completely. I can’t live in this in between.”

“ _How are we supposed t’ make dis work? Y’r a fed now, cher, and I’m…I’m an X-Man_.”

That little revelation registered somewhere inside of Spencer and it was one he knew he’d pull out later tonight when he was lying here in bed. Then, he’d think on it. Right now he had to focus on the more important parts of the conversation. This was too vital to be sidetracked from. “If you want this badly enough, we’ll find a way. If we’re what you want, if you can commit to that, we’ll figure out the rest. Together. But you need to decide what you want, first.”

“ _I thought I knew. But t’day, at lunch…I aint felt like dis since I left. Y’ deserve t’ know, I’ve tried being wit’ other people. Y’ was right t’day when y’ said I aint been celibate. I even tried here, wit’ someone on de team.”_

The words hurt to hear—God, did they hurt!—but Spencer appreciated the honesty. Lies between them would serve no purpose and would only come back to haunt them later on. He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath, trying not to let it show just how much that hurt to hear.

Remy must’ve caught it anyways. He quickly added on _“I aint wit’ her right now. We fight, a lot, and we been in an off period fo’ about a week. I…”_ Pausing, Remy cleared his throat. _“I aint gon’ be wit’ her, neither. Not while we’re figuring dis out. I aint gon’ be dat disloyal t’ y’, Spencer._ ” He paused again, though this time the quiet lasted a little longer, like he was gathering his courage. When his voice came back, it was just a hint hesitant. “ _Did y’ really mean it when y’ said dere’s been no one fo’ y’?”_

“Of course.” Spencer said huskily. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Remy. You should know that.”

“ _Je sais.”_ His breathing was just a big ragged. “ _Dieu. Maybe it makes me an ass and a hypocrite fo’ saying dis, mais I’m glad. Dammit, I’m glad. I wish…I mean, I wish I…”_

This time it was Spencer's turn to say “I know.” And he did. He knew exactly what Remy was trying to say there. And as much as he hated each and every person Remy had ever slept with, his brain understood it. “I never expected you to stay celibate, Remy. You’re a sensual person and you need touch like the rest of us need food or air. To deny yourself that kind of touch would’ve been the equivalent of starving yourself. I understand.”

 _“It was only women.”_ Remy said suddenly. “ _I only ever touched women. I couldn’t…I just couldn’t. Not wit’ another man.”_

The pleasure Spencer felt at that had him closing his eyes and smiling. Maybe it wasn’t much; it was enough, though. Enough to warm some of the ache that had built. “Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell over them for a few minutes. Spencer lay back in bed once more, this time propping himself up on the pillows. His earlier anger seemed to have faded away. For now, he was content to sit and to wait, listening to the sounds of Remy smoking. Remy seemed just as content. How long they stayed like that, he wasn’t sure. But eventually it was Remy who broke the quiet. “How long are y’ in town fo’?

“Three more days.”

“ _I need t’ t’ink about all dis b’fore we talk again. Will y’ have dinner wit’ me, y’r last night here?_

This was more than just a dinner invitation. Spencer knew what Remy was telling him. He was asking for time to think and telling Spencer that he’d have his decision before he left. There was no way in hell Spencer would turn down _that_ dinner invitation. “Absolutely.”

 _“Merci.”_ Remy murmured. “ _Y’ know, no matter what…I do love y’, Spencer. I aint never stopped. Y’r mon amour. Mon cœur. Always.”_

Oh, God. Spencer closed his eyes against the sheen of tears. Even here, where he was alone, he refused to let them fall. His heart swelled up at hearing those words. They were words he’d longed to hear for the past six years. “I love you too.” He choked out, voice thick. “Always, Remy.”

He hung up the phone feeling both elated and terrified. Three days. In three days he’d know whether he was finally going to truly lose the most important thing in his life. He just had to make it through the next three days.

Three days seemed like an eternity.


	6. Chapter 6

Morning found Spencer sitting in a smaller conference room of the hotel. He and the other two profilers were set up in here to speak with some of the people who had brought their cases here for consultation. This was their third day here and their first round of consultations. The plan was supposed to be that the profilers would sit at their tables and people would come in with their case files. They’d lay them out, speak with the profiler, give them a rundown of things, and if there was anything that could be done, the profiler would take the case and get back to them before the conference was over. Personally, Spencer found the process ridiculous. Profiling wasn’t some assembly line production. How on earth did the people here really expect this to work?

Still, Spencer sat down at a table in the conference room and he waited for the first person to come to him. The tables were separated as far as possible, trying to grant privacy for each case. While he waited he looked over the other profilers. At the table in the corner was Raymond Owen. He wasn’t actually currently on a BAU team. In fact, he was an instructor at the Academy. Like Gideon and Rossi, Owen had been at the BAU back in the early days. When things had changed, he’d moved over to the Academy and took up a teaching position. He was a good profiler and he often spoke at seminars and conferences when he had the time. He was a serious type of person, with a bit of a gruff attitude, with this air to him that said he’d seen it all and nothing could shock him anymore. The man was around six foot six, with a build that put even Derek to shame, and he wasn’t above using that height to loom over people as he glared down at them. Spencer had been in one of his classes and, honestly, hadn’t been all that fond of the man. Anyone who thought that Aaron Hotchner had a serious face had never been on the receiving end of one of Ray Owen’s glares. Spencer had frequently been subjected to those glares. Owen had made it clear that he wasn’t particularly pleased that Spencer was allowed in the Academy, being younger than everyone else, and he really hadn’t liked that the Bureau had made exceptions for most physical things just to get Spencer to pass.

Spencer grimaced. So far, he’d managed to avoid Owen. He’d just have to keep trying to do that if at all possible.

He turned his attention away from Owen and over to the other table. The person sitting there was someone he hadn’t met, though he’d heard about. Agent Trinity Forrester. She was new to the BAU, not even finished with her first year on the team yet. Most likely that was why she was the one here. It was no secret that not many of the profilers had any real patience for things like this. While they might appreciate the break, most of them weren’t fond of having to try and not only explain different parts of what they did, but have to take the time to explain to all the skeptics that showed up that what they did wasn’t just a bunch of bullshit. That’s what quite a few people in law enforcement thought of profiling—pure bullshit. Senior agents had been to things like this before and they’d been forced to defend their job for years. So when stuff like this came up, the newest team members, or the youngest, usually got stuck with it.

Trinity didn’t seem to mind, though. Spencer had noticed over the past couple days that the young woman seemed to enjoy herself here. She looked close to Emily’s age, same build even, but with a shock of bright, naturally red curls and that pale skin that only came to true redheads. She was a pretty woman with an outgoing, friendly personality that made her even prettier. From everything Spencer had heard, she was a top notch profiler, too. She’d worked her way up the ladder and was thrilled with her new assignment into the BAU. He knew a member or two of her team, at least in passing, and both men had said that she was a hell of an asset.

Spencer's musings were cut off when the doors opened and people were brought inside. All of his attention turned to the young woman who was coming to his table with case files in hand.

The first two people that Spencer saw were relatively easy. The first hadn’t been a case he could help with at all, at least not beyond anything that they were already doing. The second one, he’d actually be able to offer some help rather quickly. A quick discussion of victimology and a profile of the type of rapist this detective was hunting, and the man was hurrying out of the room with a lead obviously in mind.

As Spencer was waiting for the next person to come in, he heard a voice laughing call out to another “You actually brought that trash, Marconi?”

A look showed one man scowling at another man, who was laughing. The one with the scowl had to be Marconi. That was all the attention he gave the other guy. Wiping his scowl away, he moved up to Owen’s table, sliding down into the seat. He laid a folder down on the table and Spencer saw Owen reach out and pick it up. To his surprise, Owen barely gave the contents of the folder a look, shared only a few quiet words with the man, and he was shaking his head no as he held the folder back out. Being across the room, Spencer had to strain to hear Owen say “I’m sorry, I just don’t see anything I can do.”

The reply he got was a lot easier to hear. In fact, it turned a few heads. “You barely looked at them!” Marconi exclaimed loudly. He looked furious.

All eyes were on them now. Owen coolly lifted one eyebrow and continued to hold the folder out. “I saw enough. I’m sorry, Detective, but I see no connection here.”

There was something about this that just struck Spencer as wrong. He found himself moving before he’d stopped to think about it. There was something about this that just seemed to call out to him. Something that drew him up and across the room. “Excuse me.” He called out, catching their attention. He forgot all about the guy who had just stepped up to his table. Slipping around a few people who were standing and watching this little drama unfold, Spencer made his way over towards Agent Owen and the detective, Marconi. Both men turned to look as Spencer as he got close to their table. The young genius looked to Owen, holding out his hand. “Would you mind if I took a look?”

“There’s nothing here, Dr. Reid.”

Owen’s voice was just patronizing enough to get Spencer's back up at the same time that it triggered that urge to back down, same as he always felt when faced with confrontation with someone bigger than him, but he used the skills he’d learned over the years and he pushed it down and made his voice as calm as he could get. “Then there should be no problem with me looking the file over.”

For a moment Owen just stared at him. Then, sneering, he dropped the file in Spencer's hand. “Have at it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Thank you.” Spencer turned towards the detective, effectively cutting Owen out of their conversation, and he gestured with his hand. “Why don’t we go over here and have a seat, Detective? We can look at the file and you can give me your thoughts.”

Spencer led him over to a table away from everyone else and sat down, gesturing to a chair beside him instead of across from him as they’d all been set up. As he sat, he was already opening up the file. “Why don’t you tell me what you have while I look through what you’ve brought?” He suggested.

The detective took the seat at Spencer's side and wasted no time in diving right in. “I’ve got a serial case that no one seems to give a damn about. It’s local, here in the city. Six prostitutes have been murdered and, according to what I’ve been able to look up, there are three more that are missing. Four of the victims are women and two are men. The killer doesn’t seem to care about gender.”

One fact jumped out at Spencer and had his eyebrows going up. Well, well. “I see three of the girls were mutants.”

“Yeah.” Marconi’s voice turned slightly belligerent. “So? Doesn’t make em any less important than anyone else.”

“Of course not. It’s simply another piece to the puzzle. It doesn’t make them any more or less important in my eyes, Detective.”

His calm words seemed to ease the detective slightly. “Yeah, well, you’re one of the few to think that way. I can’t get anyone else to agree with me that these are important. They look at that fact, they see they’re hookers, and they just don’t care. I can’t even get anyone to agree that they’re connected in any way.”

“What makes you think they are?” Spencer scanned the autopsy reports that were in here, drawing in little bits of information as he went.

“Those six women have all died in two weeks, Dr. Reid. All of them were brutally beaten and cut up and then left to bleed out in an alley. You tell me how they’re _not_ connected.” Marconi countered. He reached out and tapped a finger against one of the pictures that Spencer was now holding. “Each one he seems to get progressively more violent, but also more controlled. He’s getting better, Doctor. I’m worried that he’s using the hookers as _practice_. By the time he moves up to victims that people consider important enough to notice, he’ll have a hell of a lot of practice under his belt and he’s gonna be harder to stop. And I’m worried he might already be there. He killed those six women in two weeks and he’s been silent for the past four days.”

That was a pretty accurate summary. Spencer agreed with the man that these kills all looked like practice. The Unsub was progressing, evolving, with each new kill. The earliest victim wasn’t just a prostitute; she was a junkie, judging by the information in here on her. An easy victim. With each new victim, the Unsub seemed to be moving up. The latest murder showed just how much he was evolving. Instead of one, he’d taken a pair of prostitutes, two that were known for working together. Taking two at once was a huge step forward. His violence was prominent in this one, too, the anger easy to see, and the mutilation with the knife was more prominent than the beating. In each subsequent murder, the knife work was becoming more prominent.

Spencer mentally echoed Marconi’s earlier statement. How could anyone look at these and _not_ see a connection? He looked down at another of the photos.  “Do you have any more files on these?”

“Back at the precinct.” There was a hint of hope to Marconi’s voice.

Lifting his head, Spencer met the man’s eyes. “I’d like to view them if possible.”

That hint of hope flared fully to life. “Of course.”

The two were making their way past the tables, on their way to the door, when Owen’s voice stopped them. They had to pass by his table to exit. “You’re actually taking that?” Owen called out to him.

Spencer stopped and looked over at the other agent. He just couldn’t understand how it was that someone who was supposed to be such a good profiler could’ve ignored a case like this. Was it prejudice?  Whatever it was, Spencer didn't care. He kept his voice neutral as he simply said “Yes.”

Owen made a scoffing sound. “It’s not a case, doctor. But, feel free to waste your time.”

“Why?” Spencer asked, arching a brow. “Because the victims are prostitutes? Or because some are mutants? Prejudice in a profiler is a dangerous thing, Agent Owen.”

Fury snapped to life in Owen’s eyes. “Excuse me?” He demanded.

“This is clearly a case, as you would’ve seen if you’d looked beyond simple victimology. This isn’t just a serial killer in the making. It’s a serial killer that’s already had quite a long run without interruption.” Straightening his spine, abruptly aware of their audience, Spencer lifted his chin ever so slightly. “Excuse me, Owen. I have a job to go do.” Without wasting any more time, he turned and made his way straight to the exit where Marconi was waiting.

* * *

It only took an hour for Spencer to get to the station and get settled in with all the files. The Captain here had been surprisingly easy going about bringing the BAU in, telling Marconi “I trust your judgment. You think there’s something here and you think you need these profilers, you’ve got my okay. Just—don’t make me regret it.”

Twenty minutes with the files and the bad feeling Spencer had about all this grew even stronger. A call to Garcia only served to prove he’d been right to be worried. As he looked at the information she’d faxed over to him, he knew what he needed to do. He took the folder of new papers with him to the Captain’s office, bringing Marconi with him. Captain Eric Olsen patiently listened as Spencer summed up some of what he’d seen in the files they already had here. Then Spencer moved in to what he had now. “I called my team’s technical analyst and had her do a bit of digging to see if she might be able to come up with any other cases related to our Unsub here.” Spencer explained. He laid the folder down on the Captain’s desk. “She found four more murdered prostitutes. Two in Brooklyn and two in the Bronx. She also found another murder in Brooklyn and one in Queens. These two weren’t prostitutes, though. They were both found in alleys outside of clubs where they’d been reported being seen earlier. One was a college student, the other a checker at a gas station. They were beaten and cut in almost the exact same manner as the other victims. The only difference is the knife work is even more prominent than before.”

“He’s taken a liking to his knife.” Marconi said, looking down at the photos as the Captain sifted through them.

Spencer nodded his agreement. “He’s had plenty of time to find what he likes and what suits him. That’s why he chose the victims he did before—practice. Now that he’s figured out what he likes and what he wants, he’s moved up, taking victims with a higher risk. He’s gained confidence.” Lifting his head, Spencer looked right at the Captain and hoped that he could impress on the man just how important this is. “Sir, the Unsub ran unchecked through twelve victims in just three weeks. He’s got a taste for killing and he’s not going to stop. I’d like to call my team out here and get on this case before the body count climbs any higher.”

There was no hesitation on Captain Eric’s face. He looked back down at the file on his desk and nodded his head. “Call them in. We’ll take all the help we can get.” When he looked back up, his expression was just a little tighter, a little frustrated. “I wish it weren’t so, but I have to warn you that there’s a chance you might not get all the sympathy you need for this. As Marconi can tell you, not many people have been that accepting of this being a case at all. My men and women are good people, but not all of them see very clearly when there are mutants involved.”

“I understand, sir.” And Spencer did understand. Not just personally, but professionally. “This isn’t the first case where my team has been the only advocate for some of the victims. But I appreciate the warning.”

When the Captain dismissed them, Spencer wasted no time in hurrying out of the room and pulling out his cell phone. HE quickly dialed Aaron’s number. On the second ring, his boss answered. “ _Hotchner._ ”

“Hotch? It’s Reid. I’ve got a case…”

* * *

Just a few hours later the BAU team was making their way inside the station. Marconi was there to greet them. “You must be the BAU team.” He said as he strolled over to them. He held his hand out, shaking Aaron’s hand. “I’m Detective Marconi. Boy, you guys got here quick.”

“The Unsub is moving quickly and we need to do the same. We’ve got a lot of catch up to do and not a lot of time to do it.” Aaron said. He let go and gestured behind him.

Marconi nodded his agreement. Then he waved a hand and gestured for them to follow. “Well, follow me. Your man has a conference room all set up for all of you.” As he wound his way through the bullpen, he slanted an amused look back towards the team. “He’s a bit of a whirlwind, your doctor. A good guy, though. I didn’t think anyone was ever gonna listen to me. Then this kid walks up and asks real nice to look at things. The next thing I know, we’re driving down here.”

The profilers exchanged smiles. Even Aaron had a small hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

When they stepped into the conference room, they saw that Spencer had already set up everything. There was an evidence board up with victim information, files were stacked on the tables, and Spencer was bent over one with a map spread out in front of him and markers in his hands and one marker hanging out of his mouth. Derek grinned at the sight. “Hell of a way to get out of speaking at the seminar, kid.” He called out.

Spencer's head shot up at the sound of Derek’s voice. When he saw his friends there, his expression eased a bit and his usual shy smile lit his face. Well, his usual smile, with a marker sticking out. He quickly reached up and pulled it out of his mouth, flushing a little at the chuckles it earned him. “You guys made good time.”

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” David commented, looking around the room. He gave Spencer a small nod of approval.

That was all the time that was spent on small talk. Aaron looked around and quickly took charge of the situation. “We reviewed the files on the flight out here, so we’ve got a start on this. Jordan, I want you with me. We’re going to speak to the Captain and try to make sure we’ve got things under control. We need to figure out what, if anything, is going to be said to the media. Dave, Prentiss, why don’t you two head on over to the morgue. Morgan, you and Reid head out to the latest crime scene and see what you can find.”

“I’ll come with you.” Marconi offered, eyes going to Spencer.

The young genius looked at Derek, who gave a small shrug to indicate it didn’t matter to him, and then smiled at the Detective. “Of course, Detective.”

Just like that, the team was moving, each heading off where they’d been directed.

* * *

Sometimes it surprised Spencer a little how much he’d adapted to this life. It should’ve thrown him a little, starting a case at this seminar and then jumping right in to it. Instead, he barely missed a beat. He went to the crime scene with Derek and he had no trouble pushing everything else aside to do his job. If anything, it was actually easier for him to do his job right now than to try and think of anything personal. Thinking of personal things inevitably led to thinking of Remy, which led him to thinking of the up and coming deadline of their dinner date, and he’d end up with his stomach twisting and his mind racing and more nerves than he was prepared to handle. Having a case to work gave him something to focus on and to keep him distracted. If he threw himself into it a little more than normal, well, that was understandable.

The team worked straight through the rest of the day and half the night as well. They went to crime scenes, spoke with families of the victims, and tried to gather as much as they could. They hadn’t even had a chance to sit down at the station together and try to discuss everything they were finding. For now, they were on a race to try and get as much information as they could, playing catch up on a killer who had ran unchecked until now. A killer that, if they were right, would kill either tonight or the next.

When half the night was gone and there’d been nothing to report for any new victims, Aaron sent everyone to get some sleep. The team was staying at an entirely different hotel than Spencer, so they split apart. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to last.

Six a.m. rolled around and the sound of his cell phone woke Spencer. When he answered the phone, he was greeted by Derek saying “We’ve got another one. You need to get to the station, Reid. Marconi says the guy left something behind that we need to see.”

Suddenly much more awake, Spencer pushed up in bed. “I’m on my way.” Was all he said. He snapped his phone shut and quickly rose to get dressed. Thirty minutes later he was walking into the police station. The team hadn’t arrived yet. Only Marconi and the Captain were in the conference room. They were both bent over the table looking at an evidence bag lying there. At Spencer's entrance, both of them looked up quickly. “Dr. Reid.” Marconi said, giving him a strange look. Part frustration, part…pity?

Spencer watched them carefully as he made his way inside. What was going on? What had them looking like that? He stopped at the other side of the table and gave them each a curious look. “Detective. Captain. I heard another victim was found.”

“There was.” Eric said. He looked down at the bag in front of him. Then he lifted it, holding it out towards Spencer. “This was found in an envelope on our victim. The envelope was addressed to you.”

Surprise had Spencer's eyebrows shooting up. What the hell? “To me?” Oh, this was not good. It was never good to be singled out by an Unsub. Spencer licked his lips and dusted his suddenly sweaty palms off on his pants. His hand was steady when he reached out and took the bag. His eyes went to the paper he could now see inside and they ran over words that made his heart start to pound.

_Dr. Reid – It’s so nice to see someone finally appreciate my work. I was so glad to see you on my case. After our meeting the other day, it seems only right that you’re here now. I look forward to pitting your luck against my wit. Let’s see if you can save another one. I had fun picturing him while I was with this one. He was a poor substitute, but I’ll get the real thing soon enough. That flashy whore can’t hide. Can you save him again?_

The words raced through Spencer's mind over and over. He froze, the note in his hand, staring down at it but no longer seeing it. He didn’t hear Marconi or Eric asking him questions. He didn’t hear the team arriving behind him. All of his focus was on the contents of this letter. Horror filled him, little by little, pushing away the shock. Oh, sweet God. _No_. _‘After our meeting the other day’_ , it said. _‘Let’s see if you can save another one’. ‘Can you save him again?’_ Oh, no. No, no, no. Bits and pieces were falling together in his mind like pieces to a puzzle. The pictures from the crime scenes, the details in the autopsies, the newest victims who had been found outside of clubs. A body lying in a cold alley with a man posed over him, knife in hand. A knife he had almost been too late to stop.

A hand settled on Spencer's shoulder. It jolted him out of his thoughts and had his head snapping to the side. Aaron stood there looking at him with a concerned expression. “Reid?”

Reality slammed back into him with the force of a freight train. The shock and horror gave way to fear. Spencer practically thrust the evidence bag at his Unit Chief. Then he stepped away, already yanking out his cell phone as he did. He scrolled through the call history until he found the number he needed. As he did, he heard Captain Eric demanding “Can someone tell me what’s going on here? This makes it sound like Dr. Reid and our killer know one another! And what’s this about another victim?”

Spencer moved even further away so he wouldn’t have to hear them. Ah, there it was! He hit the buttons to call that number and then pressed the phone to his ear. He held on tightly to it while it rang and rang. “Come on, come on.” He murmured. He didn’t notice that everyone was watching him. He didn’t even notice that he was practically bouncing in place. Fear was written in every inch of his body. It showed in the nervous energy, the wide eyes, the pale complexion.

The phone stopped ringing and clicked over to voicemail and Spencer felt like he might be sick. When the beep sounded, his words almost tripped over themselves in their hurry to get out. “Remy, it’s Spencer. You call me as soon as you get this, you hear me? It’s extremely important that you call me right away.”

 _Please be okay_ He prayed. His hands shook slightly as he hung up the phone. _Please, please, be okay._


	7. Chapter 7

Remy wasn’t answering his cell phone because, at that moment, he was too busy getting his ass chewed and he didn’t feel the vibration in his pocket. He’d been prepared to get yelled at, had known it was only a matter of time, and he’d been sure he could easily handle it. He would have, too, if Scott had actually been yelling at him for what he’d expect. When he’d gotten home and had received the summons to come to Scott’s office, he’d gone in there sure that he was about to get bitched at for missing the danger room session and he’d had his most insolent posture out, just for the fun of tweaking Scott a little more. That’s why he was so surprised when Scott immediately started in on him—but not for missing training. “Where the hell have you been?” Scott demanded furiously the instant that Remy stepped through the door. He rose from behind his desk and his whole body screamed out that he was upset and pissed off. “Everyone here has been worried sick about you! You get attacked and then you just up and vanish on us and don’t even check in, don’t go to see Hank to make sure you’re okay.”

Wait, whoa there. This was _so_ not what Remy had been expecting. He stood in the middle of the room as Scott practically stalked over towards him just radiating his anger. Scott was mad about all of that? But…why? “What’s got y’ so up in arms about dis, Cyke? Remy aint hurt none.”

“What’s got…?” Scott trailed off, looking totally stunned by Remy’s words. “You want to know why I’m upset? You were _attacked_ , Remy! By who, we have no idea. All we know is that Jean insisted there was something going on with you in that alley and we all rushed out to find you lying on the ground with some kid with a gun kneeling of you. Then you just insist that this kid that we found there wasn’t hurting you, despite the fact that you were bleeding from the back of your head, and then you take off after him when he shoves you away and bolts! And you want to know what’s got me up in arms?” With a furious sound that was almost a snarl, Scott spun and pointed a finger sharply at a chair. “Sit!”

There were times to tweak Scott and there were times to shut up and listen. This was one of the latter. Remy said not a word as he made his way to the chair and slid down in it. Of course, he couldn’t completely give in. It just wasn’t in his nature. He drew on the outer shield he’d so perfected and he let his body sort of melt down into the chair in a pose he knew looked both lazy and sexual. Usually, it earned him a scowl from Scott, no more than that. The man didn’t really seem that bothered by posture. Today, he didn’t even twitch at it. He just stormed around the desk and almost threw himself down into his chair. Then he placed his arms on his desk and leaned forward with that serious look that always managed to make Remy feel like a bug under a microscope. “Report.”

Crap. He’d reduced Scott to monosyllables. That was never a good sign. Remy squashed his initial urge to say something snarky. He did, however, indulge himself by pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, pleased when Scott didn’t argue and simply pulled an ashtray out of a drawer and stuck it on the desktop. Remy voice was professional, though, as he told Scott the same thing that he’d told Spencer. Or, close to the same. He kept his words and tone professional. However, when he got to the part where Spencer came rushing in, his tone did sharpen slightly. He was going to make it very clear right here and right now that Spencer had had nothing to do with the ‘attack’. “De ‘kid’ y’ was talkin’ about saved Remy’s ass, Cyke. He’s a Fed and dat’s why he had a gun. He wasn’t dere t’ hurt Remy and he didn’t deserve t’ get knocked into de wall fo’ his troubles.”

“Yes, we could really tell, what with the way he shoved you and ran for the hills like that.” Scott said dryly.

Temper snapped in Remy’s eyes. “He had every right in de world t’ do dat. Trust Remy. Dere’s history dere y’ don’t know about.”

“A history that is none of my business.” One hand waved in the air in a silent dismissal of that part of things. “What I care about is the fact that you took off that way without a single explanation and that you stayed away. At the least, you should’ve come and talked to me about this, Remy. Someone tried to kill you.”

Remy shrugged one shoulder. “So? Aint de first time.”

“That’s all you have to say about it? Just ‘so’?”

What else did he expect? Remy didn’t understand why Scott was getting so upset about this. People tried to kill them all the time. It was part and parcel of being not just in the X-Men, but of being a mutant who had any physical sign of their mutation. “What’s Remy supposed t’ say? Y’ act like it’s de first time anyone’s ever tried it, Scotty.”

“So we’re just supposed brush it off?” Scott asked sharply. “Not care? Not try to figure out _why_?”

“Figure out why?” That had Remy actually laughing. He took a long drag off his cigarette and tapped his ashes into the ashtray. “ _Merde_ , Scotty, dere’s countless reasons. Take y’r pick. People been tryin’ t’ kill Remy since he was just a pup. Dey all got a reason fo’ it. His eyes, his powers, his charm, his job, his friends. Dere’s countless reasons. Why bother tryin’ t’ figure it out all de time? If Remy did dat, he’d never have time fo’ not’ing else.”

His words seemed to stun Scott completely. The serious look wiped away underneath one of surprise and the man sat back in his chair and simply stared. “Jesus.” He finally breathed out, surprising Remy in turn. His voice sounded as stunned as he looked. “You’re really that used to it that it doesn’t even bother you anymore?”

The tone to his words had Remy getting just a little defensive. “Dere were more important t’ings on Remy’s mind at de time dan some psycho.” He spat out. The tension in him had his body loosening even more, muscles getting more relaxed, inadvertently making his pose just a little more blatantly sexual. “Y’ act like it aint just a fact of life fo’ us. People try t’ kill us all de time, Cyke. Comes wit’ being in de X-Men. Comes wit’ being a mutant. Beside, aint like Remy wasn’t gonna tell y’ bout dis. Dere’s a mutant out dere dat’s got a strong mental power and he aint using it fo’ good. Dat’s what y’ should be worrying bout here, not Remy.”

Before this weird conversation could get any weirder or any more uncomfortable, Remy pushed up out of his chair. He ground his cigarette out and left the butt in the ashtray. “If y’ don’t mind, Remy’s got t’ings t’ do.”

He made it out of the room before Scott could even spit out his name. Remy kept going and didn’t bother stopping until he’d made his way up to the rooftop. Today was definitely a thinking day and that was one of his best thinking spots. Just as he settled down, he felt a small vibration from his pocket. When he pulled out his phone he discovered he had a voicemail. Huh. Must’ve missed a call. A quick check and his eyebrows went up when he saw the number of the call he’d missed. Spencer was calling him? The impression Remy had gotten with their last conversation was that they weren’t going to speak again until their dinner date. What had him calling? Pressing the buttons to open his voicemail, Remy finally put his phone to his ear and listened to his message. No sooner had the message ended than he was hanging up the call and dialing a new one.

* * *

“What’s going on here, Reid?”

Spencer was pacing the end of the conference room when Aaron asked him that question. His cell phone was clutched tightly in his hand. Over and over in his mind he was repeating a fervent prayer. _Please call. Please be okay. Please call. Please be okay._ That was all he could think of. How could he think about anything else? His brain was too scrambled to be able to think of a way to explain this to his friends. Yet there was no way he could just ignore them. Aaron had asked him a question and he had to answer it. Plus, Marconi and Captain Eric were standing off to the side still, watching him intently. Spencer wasn’t going to be able to just brush this off.

How was he going to explain this without revealing his powers in front of the two cops, and in front of Jordan? With JJ out on maternity leave, Jordan was their current media liaison and she most definitely didn’t know Spencer's secret. Why would she? The woman was only a temporary fixture in the department. When JJ came back, Jordan would be gone. There was no reason to bother telling her. Unfortunately, that meant that Spencer had to be careful about what he said to the team in the meantime.

 _Pull yourself together!_ Panicking wasn’t going to do him any good. Remy would call when he got that message. He would! Just because he didn’t answer didn’t mean that he was in any trouble. Logic would say that he was fine right now. The note clearly made it sound as if the Unsub was going to hunt; meaning—he didn’t have Remy yet. So that had to mean that Remy was safe. Spencer used that train of thought to try and anchor down the panic that kept trying to consume him. _Control. Control._ He took a few deep, steadying breaths and finally stopped his pacing. When he looked up, all eyes were on him and he shifted uncomfortably. He’d forgotten how much of an audience he had. Biting his lip, he turned towards his boss, figuring it would be easier to focus on him. “I’m sorry, Hotch. I, ah, I never thought about it. I didn’t make the connection until now.” And dammit, how could he be so stupid? How could he not have noticed it sooner?

“What connection?” Eric asked sharply.

Time to mix truth and lie together just enough to cover his ass. “On my first night here, I went to go meet up with an old friend. It was right after I got off the phone with you, Morgan. I was right by the club where he was at when I heard something in the alley. I went in and found someone lying on the ground with a man over top of him holding a knife. I drew my weapon and identified myself. When the man ignored me and tried to continue with his attack, I was forced to fire. He moved quickly, though. Before I could take another shot, he was racing off in the dark.”

“And you never reported this?”

Eric’s furious sounding question made Spencer flinch slightly. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and made himself straighten just slightly. He wasn’t going to be cowed by this man. He _wasn’t_. “The victim refused to make a report or bring up any kind of charges.” That was at least _semi_ -true. Remy would’ve refused if Spencer had brought it up, of that he was sure. The Cajun had as little to do with police as humanly possible.

This time it was Jordan who spoke up and asked the surprised question. “Why would they refuse to report it? And shouldn’t you have reported it anyways, since there were shots fired?”

Spencer fought not to scowl over at her for asking that. He shifted his weight from one foot to the next as all eyes came back to him yet again. _Gee, thanks for that, Jordan. Thank you so very much_. The sarcasm was unlike him, even in his mind, and Spencer tried again to take a calming breath. The panic was still simmering under the surface and he needed to get it under control. Remy was going to call. He would! And he was going to be just fine. Spencer repeated that mantra a few times until he was sure he was calm enough to speak normally. “He refused to report it because he’s never had much faith or trust in law enforcement. He insisted it wasn’t bad enough to worry about. But I never imagined that the Unsub would fixate on me. I never thought to connected it when I read those case files, either. Maybe because he hadn’t been beaten, not yet, and the man hadn’t even started cutting. I never connected that attack with these beaten and cut victims here.”

“Well, he’s fixated on you and this victim now.” David pointed out, drawing attention away from some of the more probing questions. He was holding the note now and was looking down at it. “What I’d like to know is how he knew so quickly that you were on the case. We haven’t been working this for a full twenty four hours yet and he already not only knows you’re working this, but he had time to find a victim and deliberately leave it for you to find.”

“Maybe he hid out and watched Reid head back to his hotel.” Emily suggested. “He saw the seminar, maybe asked around and found out that Reid’s an agent.”

Derek was nodding his agreement. “And fixated on him because of it. No other cop has stopped him yet, so when he found one that did, maybe he sees it as some kind of worthy challenger. He says in there that he’s looking forward to pitting Reid’s luck against his wit. He’s making this some big game between the two of them.”

“He’s also made it clear he’s going to go after the victim you saved him from.” Marconi directed to Spencer. “I take it that’s who you were calling?”

“Yes.”

Spencer was saved from having to elaborate on that further. The phone clutched in his hand suddenly started to ring and Spencer promptly forgot everyone in the room once more. Before the phone finished his second ring, he had it flipped open and pressed against his ear, blurting out. “Reid.”

“ _Hey, it’s me. Sorry I missed y’r call, I was getting’ m’ ass chewed off by m’…well, m’ boss, so t’ speak. What’s up? Y’ sounded panicked_.”

Just the sound of Remy’s voice was enough to have Spencer's whole body relaxing. He was okay. He really was okay. The young genius sank down into a chair. His legs felt like noodles. Without thinking, words slipped past his lips. “Remy. You’re okay.”

Remy responded immediately, his voice dropping down to the lower tones he used when trying to soothe Spencer down. It was the tone he’d take when Spencer was scared, or after his nightmares. Low, warm, full of love and strength both, his accent just the slightest bit thicker. “ _Oui, I’m okay. I’m perfectly fine. What’s de matter? What’s got y’ so scared, bébé?”_

This wasn’t something that Spencer wanted to get into over the phone. Especially not in a place where he couldn’t say everything that he needed to say. With the soothing reassurance of Remy’s voice, a little of Spencer's control returned and he was more conscious of those watching him. He appreciated it when he realized that Aaron had started a conversation with the two locals, discussing this newest puzzle piece and adding what they had to their timeline of information. It gave Spencer just a small semblance of privacy. “There’s been some trouble, Remy. Are you anywhere nearby? We need to talk—in an official capacity.” He tacked on that last part so that Remy would understand that it wasn’t just Spencer coming to see him. He knew the man would respond one way to seeing just Spencer and another way entirely if it was work-related.

There was a moment of quiet over the phone line. When Remy came back, he still had a bit of that soothing quality to his voice, but it was tempered slightly by his seriousness. “ _I’ve got a condo in town dat we can meet at. Y’ bringing anyone else wit’ y’?”_

“I’ll most likely have to.”

 _“Merde. Great. All right. I got a place in town under de name Remy Jonas. Dat name will hold up t’ police scrutiny. Y’ use dat if y’ have t’ give m’ name fo’ anyt’ing. I can be dere in no more dan an hour.”_ He rattled off the address for Spencer. _“Does dat work fo’ y’?”_

“That’s perfect.” Spencer paused and slanted a quick look over at the others in the room. Then he lowered his voice and turned a little, trying to make his next words as private as possible. “Be safe, Remy. I don’t want to get into this on the phone, but please, be careful and safe getting there. I’ve got a lot of cause here to believe you’re in danger. Don’t do anything foolish and get yourself hurt, okay?”

_“Moi? Foolish? Y’ wound me, cher!”_

The tone was just the right amount of teasing to have Spencer's lips twitching with the urge to smile. Remy always had had the ability to make Spencer smile no matter the circumstances. It was just one of his many skills. Spencer knew he did it deliberately and yet it still worked. He let the warm feeling flow through him and actually managed to tease back a little. “You have my abject apologies. How could I ever think that you of all people might do something foolish?”

Remy gave a husky chuckle. “ _Damn straight. How dare y’?”_

“Blame it on little sleep and not enough coffee. I’ll endeavor to remedy that before our meeting. I wouldn’t want to dare risk offending your delicate sensibilities again.”

 _“Delicate sen…now y’ wait just a damn minute dere, Spencer Reid. What’re y’ tryin’ t’ say dere? Y’ callin’ me delicate?”_ He mock growled.

A true laugh slipped from Spencer. God, it felt good to tease with him! Much more at ease than he’d been before, Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I’ll see you in one hour, Remy.” Before the man could manage more than a spluttered protest, Spencer ended the call, still chuckling slightly. He felt like he could finally breathe normally again. Remy was okay. Everything else could be handled now. What had mattered more than anything else was that Remy was okay.

Now he was going to have to deal with the team. Spencer gave a moment for gratitude as he slipped his phone into his pocket. At least Remy had been prepared with a cover to handle these things. With the past that Remy had, plus that little tidbit he’d let slip of being in the X-Men, something told Spencer that running the name ‘Remy LeBeau’ through the databanks wouldn’t be the smartest idea. Remy Jonas was a perfect cover.

Remy Jonas. That was a name that Remy had used way back when. It had been the name on the lease to their home. A cover, Remy had said, to keep them both protected, because even back then being Remy LeBeau wasn’t the safest thing. Remy Jonas had been created to project a certain image. A boring, average, law abiding citizen who had never been in any trouble with the law. It made sense that it was the name he’d use now, though Spencer was surprised to see that he hadn’t retired that alias. Amusement tugged at him a little. How was it that he didn’t even bat an eye at the fact that Remy had aliases? That wasn’t exactly normal. One, yes, that was normal for a mutant. A way of protecting yourself. But multiple? Remy had had a few at the time that Spencer had known him. Who knew how many he had now?

When Spencer rose to his feet, all eyes in the room turned towards him once more, almost at the same time. It was just a bit creepy. Spencer chose to try and ignore most of them and just focus on Aaron as he had before. “I got a hold of Remy. He’s still leery of making any sort of statement but he’s willing to speak with me in an hour at his condo. I’ll see if I can convince him to come in and speak with sketch artist and I’ll try to get as much information out of him as I can.”

Aaron nodded at him. “Good. Take Morgan with you.”

Because he’d expected it, Spencer didn’t sigh. He did, however, mentally roll his eyes. Derek was the best one to be stuck having to take with him. He was also, however, the one who would notice the most between Spencer and Remy and who would ask the most probing questions. Spencer's past and his present were slowly colliding here and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to keep them separate much longer. He was going to have to tell them _something_.

For now, he put on a weak smile and nodded his agreement. “Of course, sir.”

* * *

To Spencer's surprise, Derek didn’t question him at all on the way over to Remy’s condo. At least, not about the things that Spencer had thought he would. He didn’t jump right into asking about this ‘old friend’, or for any personal information. Instead, he went for a different part entirely. “So I kind of got the feeling that we didn’t get the whole story back there.” He said suddenly, slanting a look at Spencer while they were stopped at the light. “You just happened to be meeting up with an old friend?”

Spencer smiled slightly at that. He should’ve figured that Derek would’ve noticed that part of the story didn’t sound right. Others probably had, too. With it just being the two of them in the car it was safe for Spencer to tell Derek what actually happened. “I had to word things carefully back there, Morgan. Between Detective Marconi, Captain Eric, and Jordan, I had to attempt to be discreet.”

“So, I was right, you did have a vision.”

“I did.” Spencer paused for a moment, debating with himself. The last thing he wanted to do was lie to Derek. Didn’t he at least owe him some kind of honesty here? “I…I wasn’t lying when I said that he was an old friend. I know you know how my visions work. You know I have to touch something connected to them. I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending that I don’t know Remy somehow.”

That earned him another sideways look from his friend. “Must be a good friend if you carry something with you that’s that connected to him.”

“He was. Is.” Spencer grimaced and looked down at his hands. He wasn’t quite sure what tense to use. What exactly were he and Remy right now?

The rest of the ride there was done in silence. Spencer, lost in thought, didn’t even notice Derek discreetly sneaking peeks at him every now and again.

They arrived at Remy’s condo with just a few minutes to spare. Spencer wasn’t feeling just nerves anymore when he knocked on Remy’s door. He admitted to himself that he was anxious to actually _see_ Remy. Talking to him on the phone had let him know that the other man was okay. Seeing him would make it more real. He’d be able to look at him and actually reassure himself that he was okay. It took a great effort for Spencer to keep from rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his nerves. Then Remy was opening the door and Spencer once more found himself fighting the urge to just throw himself at the other man. If Derek hadn’t been there, he might’ve given in to it this time. _I’ve really got to get over this feeling. I can’t just go around throwing myself on the man every time I see him. That is, IF I even get to see him after this case._

Remy smiled politely at Derek first and then turned to look at Spencer, his smile softening and his whole expression warming. “Prompt as always, _mon ami_.” Stepping back, he gestured with one hand. “ _S’il tu plait,_ come in. I took de liberty of starting a pot of coffee fo’ us. Would either of y’ like a cup?”

Humor tickled at Spencer. He smothered down as grin as he went inside. It always amused him to hear Remy clean up his voice the way that he was right now. His accent, while still present, wasn’t as thick as it was when he spoke with Spencer, and his grammar and pronunciation was much better. He also remembered to put the ‘g’ on the end of his words, something that he didn’t typically do. Spencer had always loved to tease him about the fact that he pronounced everything without that ending ‘g’ sound. Doin’, stayin’, goin’, feelin’. But when he was trying to be professional, like now, he magically found that g and tacked it back onto his words.

A bit of his humor was dancing in his eyes when he stopped in the living room and looked to Remy. “I’d enjoy a cup, thank you.”

“I knew y’ would.” Remy teased. He turned and looked to Derek, who had stopped beside Spencer. “What about y’, agent?”

After only a brief hesitation, Derek nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.”

“Y’r welcome.” Remy strolled over towards the kitchen area. He raised his voice so that they’d still be able to hear him. “Go on and make y’rselves comfortable. It won’t take but a minute fo’ me t’ get dis together and den we’ll talk.”

They took him at his advice and made themselves comfortable on the couch. Spencer took advantage of the moment to look around the condo. He knew Derek was doing the same, if for a different reason. Derek would be trying to profile the place and understand not only their victim, but this person whom Spencer knew. Spencer was just looking around and trying to find his friend in this space. The walls were decorated in artwork, a typical thing for Remy. Most of them were white, though there was an accent wall of brick here in the living room. For the most part, though, this place didn’t really scream Remy to him. At least, not the Remy that Spencer knew. It looked too…mainstream. Like the condo had been decorated to be displayed as a sample unit, with plain walls and normal, average furniture. There were no real pictures, no knickknacks like Spencer knew Remy was fond of. Their loft had been full of little things all over the place. Artwork, personal pictures, little items that Remy picked up in his travels or things that caught his eye. A small statue worth at least a couple thousand could share shelf space with a bowl of shells that he’d collected himself from the beach.

The sound of cups being set on something brought Spencer back into the moment. He watched as Remy came strolling in bearing a tray with a filled mugs and a couple jars that Spencer knew would hold cream and sugar. The man looked good today in his casual clothes. Just plain blue jeans and a black turtleneck, with his hair hanging loose and his sunglasses on. Privately, Spencer admitted that Remy looked good in pretty much anything.

Setting the tray down on the coffee table, Remy lifted a cup and handed it to Spencer first. While he did, he flashed a smile at Derek. “De jars have cream and sugar. I didn’t know how y’ take y’r coffee, so I brought it out fo’ y’.” He didn’t comment on the fact that he’d flavored Spencer's coffee perfectly. The young genius saw the color of the brew and took a testing sip. He felt a little jolt of pleasure when he realized that Remy had flavored it for him and had done it perfectly. All these years and the man still remembered how he took his coffee.

Spencer abruptly realized that he’d neglected one very important thing here. His cheeks heated just slightly and he lowered his mug down to his lap. “I’m so sorry for being rude. Remy, this is Agent Derek Morgan. Morgan, this is my old friend, Remy.”

“It’s a pleasure t’ meet y’, Agent Morgan.” Remy held out a hand to Derek.

Derek reached up and shook his hand. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. And I really appreciate you speaking with us about this today.”

“It sounded important.” Some of the good cheer faded from Remy’s face. He sat down in the chair near Spencer's side of the couch and it was obvious that it was Spencer he was addressing next. “What’s going on? Y’ didn’t get into much of it over de phone. Just dat it had t’ do wit’ what happened de other night.”

Straight to business, then. He could do that. Spencer pushed down the part of him that was still demanding he jump on the Cajun and hold on tight. He couldn’t indulge that right now. Right now he had to balance delicately between Spencer the friend and Spencer the agent. His voice took on that professional tone that he’d perfected over the years. “Some things have come to light since that night, Remy. The person that attacked you, he’s been attacking others. Killing them.” Blunt was the way to do something like this. Remy wouldn’t appreciate beating around the bush or him trying to break it to him gently.

The straightforward words had Remy sitting back in his seat. His eyebrows went up with surprise. “A serial killer?”

Derek fielded that question. “Yes. From what we’ve seen, he started with prostitutes and recently worked his way up to average people that he singled out in clubs, like the one you were in that night.”

This was where things were going to get difficult. Remy wasn’t going to react well to what Spencer had to tell him next. Though, probably not for the reasons that people might think. Spencer slanted a look at Derek and gave a fruitless wish that his friend wasn’t going to be here to witness this. The man was far too perceptive and he’d read quite a bit out of what was going to come out next. Still, there was no helping it. He had to work with the hand he was dealt. Spencer squared his shoulders and drew in a breath in preparation. He looked right at Remy, watching him carefully, and then he told him about what had brought them in to work this morning. He told him about the new body and the note that had been found. Then, when he was done, he sat and waited for what he knew was coming.

He wasn’t disappointed. They both may have changed over the years; at their core, however, some things were still the same. Remy’s protectiveness was definitely one of those things. His hands curled into fists when Spencer recited what was in the note and then his muscles relaxed and his posture slumped slightly in the chair. No matter how many times he saw it, Spencer was always fascinated by this strange reaction to stress. No one else that he’d ever known reacted the way that Remy did. Most people tensed up when upset or stressed. Their muscles would get tight. Spencer often got tension headaches from the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders when he was stressed. But Remy, he went the opposite. His muscles _relaxed_. His whole body would loosen up. Sometimes it made him look like he didn’t have a care in the world, sometimes it gave him an almost sexual edge, and sometimes it was noticeable enough that it actually made him look almost boneless, or asleep. It didn’t affect his reaction time, though. Spencer had seen him go from a loose-limbed sprawl up to his feet in one fast, graceful move that shouldn’t have been possible.

His voice changed, too, dropping just a little lower and carrying a hint of threat to it. “Dis Unsub, y’ called him…he’s, what? Challenging y’? Calling y’ out?”

“He’s threatening _you_.” Spencer put emphasis on the last word in hopes of impressing on Remy what was really the important thing here. He should’ve known better.

“And if he can’t get t’ me? Den what? Is he going t’ come fo’ y’?”

Just barely did Spencer keep from rolling his eyes, even as that pleased feeling grew a little at Remy’s obvious protectiveness. He slanted another quick look to Derek. Then he fixed serious eyes on Remy. “Right now what’s important is you. You need to know that you’re in danger right now, Remy. This Unsub, he’s not going to just let this go. He’s going to do everything he can to find you.”

“We can give you protection.” Derek spoke up. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs, cradling his mug between his hands. “We can have officers sitting outside your place to keep an eye on things. I’d recommend avoiding any clubs until we catch him, though.”

Remy was already shaking his head. “ _Non_. No police protection, Agent. Absolutely not.”

Spencer had known that would be his reaction. Derek, however, looked surprised. “They’d be for your safety, sir.”

“ _Non_.” Remy repeated. He sat forward and set his mug back down on the tray. “I won’t have officers outside m’ place, _monsieur_. I wouldn’t trust dem t’ watch m’ back. I’ll go stay wit’ some friends of mine fo’ a while. It’ll be safe fo’ me dere.”

Friends? Would those be the X-Men? As much as Spencer wanted to ask, he knew he couldn’t. Not here, not now. Maybe not ever. Was that really a secret he wanted to know? Better that he know as little about that as possible. Still, he had to ask some questions. Not details about the people. Just important information about the security. “You’re sure it’s secure?”

“ _Oui_. I know de security company dat did de work and dey’re de best at what dey do.” Remy’s lips quirked just the slightest bit. Seeing it, Spencer understood the subtext there. Remy had done the security at this place.

He wasn’t done yet, though. He’d trust that Remy knew what he was doing with the security. He’d been doing that even back when he and Spencer had been together. They’d joked about it often. Who better to design security than a person who spent their life breaking into secure places? But the security was only effective if it was used. Something told him that Remy wasn’t planning on just hiding out in this house. That wasn’t his style. That wasn’t who he was. Or, who he had been. Spencer didn’t know if that was something that had changed. He doubted it. The worry he felt showed through a little in his voice. “You’ll actually stay there? I don’t want you doing anything rash, Remy. We _will_ catch this Unsub.” _I need you to be safe. Please, I just need you to stay safe._

More than he wanted must’ve leaked through into his words. Remy’s expression softened and he leaned forward in his chair. To Derek’s surprise, the Cajun took Spencer's cup from him and set it on the table and then took hold of both his hands. He gave them a gentle squeeze that carried a sense of reassurance and love to it. Even with those sunglasses on, it was easy for Spencer to feel that Remy’s eyes were fixed right on his. “I’ll be safe, cher. Now dat I know he’s hunting, I’ll take precautions and I’ll be safe. I’m not going t’ hide out, _mais_ I won’t go running all over de city, and I won’t go anywhere alone, _d’accord_?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip. His mind told him that this was the best he was going to get. His heart demanded that he take Remy out of here and lock him up somewhere that he was sure he’d be safe. “You’ll strengthen your shields, too?” He finally demanded. The mental attack from this guy had been strong. Strong enough to get past Remy’s shields and almost strong enough to get in past Spencer's.

Remy nodded. “ _Oui_. I promise.”

After one long moment, Spencer nodded as well. He was going to have to take what he could get here. This was the best that Remy would give him. He fought back the worry as best as he could. It took him a little bit and his friends seemed to understand that. Remy let go of him so that he could sit back on the couch and Derek took over the conversation. He took Remy’s statement and then asked if he could maybe come down and speak with a sketch artist about what he’d seen. When he said that, he got yet another surprise. Remy picked up a folder from the coffee table and held it out to him. “I figured y’d want somet’ing like dat, so I went ahead and drew up a sketch fo’ y’. I’m pretty good wit’ sketching faces and such. Dat’s his face, best as I can remember. I went ahead and did two. One de way I remember it, wit’ de shadow on it and everyt’ing. De other is my best guess as t’ what he looks like wit’out de shadow. He’s not someone dat I’ve seen b’fore.”

Derek opened the folder and leaned towards Spencer a little so they both could look at it. Derek looked impressed with the skill of Remy’s drawings. Spencer, used to that, looked at the detail. He gave a small nod. “It matches what I saw. Except…I’m pretty sure there was a scar here.” He lifted a finger and tapped at the corner of the left eyebrow. “I’m not positive. But I’m pretty sure there was one there that went up over a bit of his forehead there.”

“Y’ might be right. I didn’t take in de details like de eyebrows. I was too caught up in de eyes. Dat close, it’s hard t’ see anyt’ing else.” Remy said.

There was nothing more really that Remy could give them after that. Derek reminded him once more to be safe and thanked him for the sketches as well as giving them his time. The three men rose and Derek and Remy exchanged handshakes. Derek looked between the two friends when he let go and his eyes took on a speculative look. His gaze firmed as if in decision about something. “I’m going to go down and call in our information to Hotch, see if they’ve found anything. I’ll meet you down at the car, Reid.” And just like that, he neatly left the two men alone, something that Spencer both appreciated and feared. He appreciated the courtesy of giving them a private moment to say goodbye. But Derek had been a buffer for them so far. A solid reminder for Spencer to keep back and keep his hands to himself. Now that he wasn’t there, the urge to grab on to Remy was even stronger.

After the door had shut and Derek was gone, the two men stood silently for a moment, neither really looking at the other. It was Remy who broke the silence. “Y’ know I gotta tell m’ team about dis.” He warned Spencer in a low voice. “We’re gonna have t’ look into t’ings on our side. Dis is a mutant y’r huntin, Spencer. He aint gonna go down easy. Y’r team might not be equipped t’ handle him, or t’ hold him if y’ did catch him.”

“I know. But we still have to try.” Even if Spencer worried what they were going to do once they caught the man.

Remy looked away from the picture he’d been studying. He watched Spencer for a beat before drawing in a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice had that caring sound to it again. “Y’ be careful, Spencer. Be safe.”

Hesitating, indecisive, Spencer looked at him. He wanted to do something but wasn’t sure if he should or even if he could. With things between them the way that they were, he wasn’t sure it would even be okay. Would Remy be all right with it? Would it bother him? Spencer just didn’t know. But need won out over everything else and Spencer stepped up to Remy, reaching out to him. To his joy and relief, Remy responded immediately by reaching out for Spencer as well and pulling him in. Spencer wrapped his arms around Remy’s waist and burrowed in close while Remy’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. He drew comfort from the physical reassurance that the one he loved was alive and safe. Face pressed in close against Remy’s neck, he whispered “Be safe, please. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Cricket.”

Hearing that pet name had Remy’s arms tightening around him. Only two people in the world called him that. Jean Luc had called him that when he was a child. It had started out as a teasing sort of nickname because Jean Luc had said that Remy was always jumping from here to there, endlessly chirping and chattering at him. When Remy had told Spencer about it, his young lover had chuckled and teased him that it was still appropriate. Somehow, from there, it ended up slipping in here and there, just teasing at first and then morphing into more. Spencer wasn’t big on pet names the way that Remy was. They just didn’t flow easily for him. So those few times that he used them, those few times that he called him ‘Cricket’, or let slip a soft little ‘love’, it always warmed Remy straight down to his toes, and it told him just how emotional Spencer was at the moment. He pulled Spencer in even tighter and rested his cheek against Spencer's hair.

For a few minutes, the two simply held one another close, saying not a word. The silence stayed with them when they finally pulled apart. Spencer reached up, fingertips just brushing over Remy’s cheek, and there was so much emotion in that touch. He curled his hand into a fist as if to hold in the warmth from Remy’s skin that sat on his fingertips. The two men shared one last look. Then Spencer gathered his strength and he turned and left Remy standing there. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.


	8. Chapter 8

Spencer knew that he’d been lucky so far at how much Derek had held back on his questions. Honestly, the man had lasted longer than he’d expected. Once they were in the car and leaving Remy’s condo, Spencer watched Derek discreetly and he could actually _see_ just how hard the man was fighting not to start asking about everything that was on his mind. He had to have a ton of questions after what he’d seen in there. Seeing Spencer and Remy interact would’ve made the average person curious. For Derek, a profiler and also one of Spencer's best friends, curious was far too mild of a word. That quick mind of his would be taking everything he’d seen, every hint from their body language, every word they’d spoken, and he’d be analyzing it, adding it all together with what he knew of Spencer and of Spencer's past.

There was really only one thing to do. He could either let Derek form his own assumptions and play off of them when the man finally asked his questions—and he would ask, of that Spencer had no doubt—or he could finally break down and just tell him at least some of what was going on. Spencer didn’t want to lie, so that left him only one option. He fought back his grimace. Talking about himself, about what he felt, definitely wasn’t one of Spencer's strong suits. But he’d made up his mind on this and once he made up his mind about something, he did it, no matter what it took.

“I was fifteen when I met Remy.” Spencer stared out the front window as he said those words. From the corner of his eye he could see Derek startle slightly and dart a quick look towards him. He didn’t say anything, though. He just stayed quiet and that somehow made it easier for Spencer to keep going. He kept staring out the window so he wouldn’t have to look at the man he was talking to. This way, he could almost pretend he was just talking to himself. “We became friends really fast. When I turned seventeen, I moved in with him and I lived there until a few months before I went to the Academy. I hadn’t seen him since then. Not until I got that vision that night.”

The car was quiet for a moment while Derek absorbed what Spencer said. When they stopped at the next red light, Derek turned once more to look at him. His eyes searched over Spencer's face intently. Then they landed on his eyes. “He’s the one that hurt you.” Not a question; a statement.

Spencer tried not to squirm underneath that intense look. “It’s not as simple as that.” One of his hands unconsciously moved up to rest over his stomach right over those hated scars. He bit his lip and looked away as the car started moving again. Breaking away from Derek’s sharp gaze allowed him to find his voice again. He couldn’t just let Derek think that Remy was a horrible person. If he left it like this, his friend would most definitely hate the man and that was something that Spencer couldn’t take. He couldn’t have his best friend hating the person that he loved. If he and Remy tried to fix things between them, Spencer didn’t want there to be a battle between his overprotective friend and an overprotective partner. “I was…I was hurt by s-someone from Remy’s past.” He blurted the words out, trying not to think as he said them. Trying not to remember the feel of that hot breath over his ear, or that disgusting hand groping over his skin. _Yer such a pretty little thing._ That voice echoing from his past had him shivering. His hand clenched down into his shirt. Focus on the present. Focus! “He blamed himself for what happened and he left to keep me safe.”

“And you’ve stayed apart all these years?” Derek asked gently.

Nodding, Spencer looked down at his hand. He realized how tightly he was clenching his shirt and he forced himself to let go. His hand only shook a little as he smoothed out the front of his shirt. “Yes. Until the other night, I hadn’t seen him for almost six years.” No need to mention Remy’s visits to his apartment. He’d never actually seen the man there, just the signs of his presence after he was gone.

“I’m sorry, Reid.”

“You have no reason to be. Remy and I’s past is just that—the past. You’ve no reason to be sorry about it, Morgan.” And with that, Spencer reached his limits on this. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, talk about this anymore. Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat, trying to push his worries and fears and old heartaches away and focus instead on the present. “What did Hotch say when you called?”

If Derek was bothered by the random change, he didn’t show it. He looked at Spencer for a moment in clam understanding and gave a brief nod of his head. Then he allowed the man his out. “This victim was the same as the others. Same MO. Nothing’s been discovered on the note, no fingerprints or anything like that. Basically, a whole lot of nothing. This guy’s good.”

“His kills are passionate and emotional, but once that burns out, he’s meticulous in his details. It takes a lot of control to make sure there’s no evidence left at the crime scene.”

“Hotch was hoping you and I could go walk the scene and see if there’s anything that we might be able to find there.”

Spencer recognized that for the code that it was. Aaron was hoping Spencer's visions might be able to tell them something. He nodded his head in understanding. Time to put all personal things aside and focus on work. “Let’s go.”

* * *

This was not going to go over well. No sir, not at all. Remy held in his curses as he slouched down in his chair. Lazy eyes drifted around the War Room. After getting back from his meeting with Spencer, the first thing Remy had done was go to Scott to tell him what was going on. He’d promised Spencer that he was going to be safe and he was going to keep that promise. One part of that was telling Scott what was going on. Plus, the team needed to know now. They needed to know that there was a mutant out there killing people and using his powers to do it. Still, this wasn’t going to be pleasant. The last thing Remy wanted right now was to bring his Spencer around these people. Not until he knew what it was he was going to do. Until he’d made his decision, it was safer and smarter all around to keep his life in the X-Men and his past with Spencer separate.

He’d already made his full report to Scott in the privacy of the man’s office. Now he just had to sit back and watch as Scott laid everything out for the team. To be honest, Remy didn’t even have to be here. He knew that. He already had his assignment from Scott and it was one he’d take care of later. It was going to be his job to get them more information. He knew Spencer would help provide it. The young genius would understand the need to share information so that this bastard could be caught.

A hint of a smile graced Remy’s lips as he thought about Spencer. The more that he saw the man, the more Remy realized all the little ways that Spencer had changed. Oh, the core of him, that was definitely still the same. But the man had changed just the same as anyone else did over the years. He wasn’t just physically older. He was older in heart and mind as well. He was stronger than he used to be. Not to say that Spencer had been weak when he was younger. Far from it. The man’s inner strength was one of the things that had always appealed to Remy. He was just, stronger than ever. It showed in the way he’d held himself even with the threat against both him and Remy. His emotions had been all over the place and they’d flashed in those ever-so-expressive eyes of his. But he’d kept himself in control and hadn’t let the panic take over. He’d sat there, looking far calmer than he felt, while he and his friend had explained things to Remy. He’d met Remy stare for stare and had calmly and clearly laid everything out for him in straightforward terms.

Spencer had always been great but he’d grown up into a hell of a man. He’d…matured. That was a good word for it. He’d matured over the years. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Not all of it was good, Remy knew. Some of it had been caused by things that Remy wished the man had never had to see. Working as a profiler had exposed him to some of the most hellish things. It was a career choice that Remy sometimes wished to God his love had never taken up. Yet at the same time he couldn’t help but feel pride in him over it. Spencer was doing good with his life. He was using that brilliant mind of his to do good and make a difference in the world. Even if it put him at more risk than Remy liked.

Thinking of that brought Remy back to the current risk. A small scowl twisted his lips. No matter what Spencer said, that note didn’t worry Remy for himself. It worried him for Spencer. He had no doubt that he’d be able to keep himself safe now that he was on alert. Between his own skills and the skills of his friends, this guy was going to have a hell of a time getting to him. But if he couldn’t get a hold of Remy, would the bastard go after Spencer next? He was taunting him in that note. Making Spencer the center of things in this investigation.  What if the guy tried for Remy and failed? Would he take his temper on that out on Spencer? The thought was enough to have Remy’s gut clenching. Was he putting Spencer at risk once again? Barely back in his life for days and already Spencer was in danger. Someone who was after Remy, who wanted to hurt Remy, could yet again end up turning it on his young love. Remy fought between the urge to run far, far away, and to race over to Spencer and refuse to let the man out of his sight.

Remy brought his attention back to the room around him as he vaguely noticed that the main discussion non this was starting to wrap up. There’d been no need to pay attention to what everyone else was going to do. Remy had his own plans building in his mind.

He’d started paying attention in just enough time, though. He’d no sooner looked up and started to listen again when Scott turned to him and fixed him with a serious look. “Until this guy is caught, you’re not to go anywhere alone, Gambit.” Scott said firmly. He looked like he was braced for one hell of an argument.

“ _Mais oui_.” Remy said casually.

Surprise echoed around the room. Scott actually froze, lips parted as if he’d been about to say something else. His mouth snapped shut and he furrowed his eyebrows. “No arguments?”

Remy shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “Would it do any good?”

“No. But that’s never stopped you before.”

“Remy can argue wit’ y’ if y’ really want, Fearless.” He flashed a sharp grin at the man, earning a few laughs around the table.

Scott quickly shook his head. “No, no. I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I’ll take it.”

Smirking, Remy settled back in his chair once more. No need to tell Scott that it was a promise to Spencer that had him agreeing to this. Let the man think he’d won. It would do his ego a little good. After all, it wasn’t often, if ever, the man could claim he actually got Remy to do something without a war over it. Let the man wonder and stew about it for a while and worry about why Remy had agreed to this so easily. He’d probably figure Remy had some plan in place and he’d spend the next little while worrying over it. Pleased with that idea, Remy snickered and relaxed back into his chair.

* * *

The day was a long one. By the time Spencer dragged himself back to his hotel room, he was exhausted. Too little sleep last night and the stress of the day, plus the attempted use of his powers all day long, had left him drained. Aaron was the one to finally force him back to the hotel despite Spencer's protests. The young genius had actually argued with him, pointing out that this Unsub was upping his game by challenging him. “There’s every chance he’ll attack again tonight, Hotch.” Spencer had argued.

“There is. But we have nothing to go on right now, Reid, and you know it as well as we do. As horrible as it is to say, the only thing we can do is hope that he makes some sort of mistake.”

This was one part of the job they all hated. When there were no clues, nothing to do beyond what they’d already done. They’d given the profile to the officers today and had circulated the picture not only amongst the officers, but through a press conference as well. Jordan had taken care of that this afternoon. The public was now aware that there was a serial killer picking people off outside of clubs and they had a picture to go with it. Remy’s sketch was showing everywhere. All they could do now was just wait and hope that some information came forward. That something put them on the right track. Spencer found himself actively hoping for a vision. The few he’d had today had been nothing that he could use. Only a vague connection of sensations and disjointed thoughts. No actual images to show him anything that could be used. Those thoughts and feelings were all that came through and they were enough to leave him feeling sick inside. Like there was a disgusting layer of slime inside of him. That was one of the biggest downsides to picking up on the Unsub instead of the victim. While connecting to a vision through a link with a victim left him hurting and sad inside, connecting to a vision through a link with an Unsub left him feeling sickened and dirty.

When he stumbled into his hotel room his only thoughts were of climbing into the shower and trying to scrub away the filth on him and in him in any way possible. What he hadn’t expected was to find someone already in his room.

Spencer closed the door to his room and looked at the gorgeous figure stretched out on his bed. “A hotel full of law enforcement and somehow you still manage to slip into my room. I don’t know whether to be impressed by your skills, or disturbed by the lack of skills from everyone else.” He’d known that Remy would come see him tonight. The man would be worried, for one, and he would also be looking for more information. Anything that Spencer could tell him to help the case along on his end. Spencer had even come prepared. He’d brought copies of their files back with him under the pretense that he wanted to go over some things. But he’d thought that he would have a little bit after getting in here before the man would show up. He should’ve known better.

His teasing went right over Remy’s head. In one swift, graceful move that left Spencer slightly jealous, the Cajun rose up from the bed. There was distress written in every line of his body. “What happened?” He demanded once he was on his feet. “Y’ look like shit, cher. Are y’ gettin’ sick?”

Well, hell. Wasn’t that just how everyone imagined being greeted by the one they loved? Spencer couldn’t help it; he snorted. “Gee, thank you so very much, Remy. It’s wonderful to see you too.”

Remy didn’t even flinch from the note of sarcasm in his voice. “Y’ know how I meant dat, Spencer. Quit tryin’ t’ distract me from it. What happened t’ y’? Did y’ get hurt? Did dat _connard_ come after y’?”

The honest care in Remy’s voice was Spencer's undoing. He couldn’t stand there and pretend offense at Remy’s choice of words. The man was right; he had been trying to distract by using sarcasm. He should’ve known that it wouldn’t work. Sighing, Spencer lifted a hand and rubbed it over his face. He was just too damn tired to deal with this right now. He didn’t want to deal with an inquisition. Not until he at least had a moment to regroup and rebuild some of those walls that kept him upright and moving. Right now he was far too fragile feeling. It was almost like that first day all over again. A wrong word, a wrong move, could potentially shatter the fragile control that Spencer had. Only this time there was nowhere for him to run to. No way for him to escape. All he had were his words and he hoped that they would be enough. That he could convince Remy to just give him enough time to get even a hint of control back. “I haven’t been hurt and no, the Unsub hasn’t come after me. Not any more than he already has, at least. It’s just been a very long day done on very little sleep and I’m slightly frayed at the edges right now.” He dropped his hand down and blew out a breath. Calm. Control. “I know you want to talk and get more information about the case, but why don’t you go ahead and go get us something to eat while I take a quick shower? I’ll feel more alert when I’m done and we can talk then.”

If he’d thought that would work, he was sorely mistaken. Remy was looking at him more intently than he had been before. Then he did one of the things that Spencer had been aching to do each time he saw him. He reached up and pulled his sunglasses off. Spencer felt like he was pinned in place as he met that striking gaze. Looking into them sent the same thrill down his spine that it always had. Everything that Remy was feeling right then was written there. A whole swirl of emotions that was dizzying to try and decipher.

Remy broke eye contact with him to look over the rest of his body with such thoroughness that Spencer swore he could almost feel the caress running across his skin. When they finally lifted back up to Spencer's face, the young genius shivered. Love and understanding were written in those fiery depths as well as possessiveness and the need to protect that had always been there. Seeing it had Spencer frozen in place. A lump built in his throat and, to his utter shock, he felt moisture pricking at the backs of his eyes. The two stayed frozen for a few beats, eyes locked together. Remy was the one to move first. Only, he didn’t come to Spencer and he didn’t back away. He simply stood there and lifted his arms in an open invitation that Spencer couldn’t resist. That silent offer gave him permission to do the one thing that he’d wanted to do each and every time he’d seen Remy. The embrace they’d shared back at the condo today hadn’t come even close to satisfying this urge. Spencer made a soft sound that was part distress, part pain, and part something else he didn’t even recognize, and then he gave in to his urges and he dropped his messenger bag down on the ground and flung himself straight at Remy.

Strong arms caught him easily. The force of Spencer's impact pushed Remy back a step so that he had to put one foot back and brace against the edge of the bed just to keep them upright. He didn’t complain, though. He just folded his arms around Spencer and held him close. Spencer's long arms slipped inside of Remy’s jacket to wrap around his waist. He held on like this was the only anchor in his world. Nothing else in the world compared to the feeling of being enfolded in the Cajun’s body. Remy always knew just how tight to hold on. He had his arms tightly around Spencer, one hand curled up to cup the back of his head and hold it against a steady shoulder. Spencer buried his face against Remy’s neck and let himself just breath in that fresh, clean scent. He let it chase away the scent memories of blood and death from today.

Neither one of them spoke at first. For two people who could talk so much on an average occasion, they were both surprisingly quiet at the moment. It was enough to just be held here. To be anchored in a place that was safe by a person that he knew would hold him up. Wrapped up close here, Spencer gave up just a tiny bit of his control. He relaxed the iron hold that he’d been keeping on himself. A shaky gasp slipped from him as he felt Remy’s emotions wash over him. The same emotions that he’d seen in the man’s eyes could now be felt as he stood pressed up against him. Spencer made sure to keep his hands on the shirt at Remy’s back. He couldn’t risk letting his hands brush against skin. His hands were where his power was centered and skin to skin made it all so much stronger. Right now, he didn’t want any more visions. Right now he just wanted the comfort that was being offered to him.

Thoughts from the day tried to slip in and Spencer burrowed in even deeper against Remy. Their bodies were plastered together now. Remy didn’t protest. He held him even tighter. Spencer felt as Remy turned his head a little and a cheek was laid against his hair. “I got y’, Penny.” Remy murmured huskily. “It’s okay now. Whatever it is, I got y’. Y’r safe.”

Nowhere else in the world ever made Spencer feel as safe as being inside of the circle of Remy’s arms. Even with all the shit still between them, being here still equaled safety to him. That sense of safety prompted low words that Spencer never would’ve dared let free anywhere else, or with anyone else. “I can still feel him in me. It’s like I’ve got maggots crawling around inside of me. Like my insides are coated in slime. I feel _filthy_ , Remy.”

“Y’ tried t’ see fo’ him.” Remy’s voice echoed with realization and understanding.

Even though he knew it hadn’t been a question, Spencer nodded against Remy’s neck. “I touched things at the crime scene and I touched that letter. I couldn’t _see_ anything, but I, I _felt_ him.” A tremor rocked through Spencer's body. He felt so sick inside. Like there was a part of that monster actually inside of him.

Remy let out a deep sigh that ruffled Spencer's hair. “Oh, Penny.” His grip tightened just slightly. Any tighter and Spencer wasn’t going to be able to breathe. Yet, all he wanted was for Remy to hold him tighter. He wanted to be completely enfolded by this man. More than anything, he wanted Remy to chase away the dark just like he’d used to.

The hand at the back of his head shifted around and tangled in his hair. Spencer's head was tugged backwards. He didn’t have time to think or even enough time to fully open his eyes. No sooner had his head been pulled back than a pair of soft lips pressed fiercely against his.

Surprise was the first thing Spencer felt, quickly washed away under the love and lust that flooded in him. Stiff muscles practically melted.

Remy broke the kiss to stare down at him and Spencer was held mesmerized by those eyes. They were staring down at him so intently. The red in them was glowing in a way Spencer had never thought he’d see again. He held himself there, not bothering to hide anything. Not _wanting_ to hide. He let Remy see everything he was feeling, both the good and the bad. The love and lust, the fear that Remy would be hurt on this case, the sickness and ache that were still inside him, the need, the fear of opening himself up like this to be hurt again. He saw Remy’s eyes flash as the man took it all in. Then Remy swooped back in and captured Spencer's lips once more.

A needy sound slid up Spencer's throat. He tipped his head up a little more and gave himself over to the sensations coursing in him. He let his body melt into Remy’s until the Cajun was the only thing keeping him upright. _This_ was what he’d wanted. _This_ was what he needed. No one in the world had ever made him feel this way. The heat was burning its way through him. It burned away the sickness inside, the filth that the touch of the Unsub’s mind had left behind, until there was nothing but that heat. Nothing but him and Remy here, twined tightly together.

When they broke apart this time, they were both panting slightly, having held on until the need to breathe had forced them apart. Spencer looked up into Remy’s heavy-lidded eyes and fought to hold in the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he stood there and stared, letting his breathing even out and his heart slowly return to normal.

Remy smiled tenderly down at him. He unthreaded his hand from Spencer's hair and brushed his knuckles against Spencer's cheek. “Come t’ bed wit’ me.” He murmured lowly.

Surprise jolted Spencer, followed by twin flashes of lust and terror. Come to bed with him? Muscles that had just loosened were now tensing once more. Soft words slipped past his lips. “Remy…I can’t…”

Remy pressed a finger against his lips. “Shh.” When he was sure Spencer was silent, he moved his finger, using that hand to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I aint askin’ dat of y’. _Désolé_ , Spencer. I should’ve said dat better. I didn’t mean it like dat. I jus’ want t’ hold y’, cher. Let me hold y’ t’night so y’ aint alone. Dat’s all I want t’ do.”

Oh, God, it sounded perfect. Spencer fought the urge to just nod and give in. The aching part of him wanted whatever comfort that Remy could offer. The rest of him was coming back to life and trying to be practical, to be an agent. “What about the case? I, I brought files for you to look at.”

“We’ll put de files near de bed and I’ll read dem later, once y’r asleep.”

“You’re not going to sleep?” Spencer asked with surprise.

Remy shook his head and smiled tenderly. “ _Non_ , cher. I’ll sit guard over y’ t’night so y’ can sleep safe.”

Those words stunned Spencer enough that he didn’t even really think about it as Remy turned him towards the bathroom and gave him a gentle shove. “Go on; go take care of y’r night stuff. I’ll be waitin’ fo’ y’.”

Spencer found himself doing as he was told. He went into the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind him. As he got ready for bed, taking care of nightly rituals, he found himself amazed at how much he was following orders here. Then again, was there any point in protesting? For one, Remy probably wouldn’t listen anyways. And two, why bother protesting when he wanted this. He really, really wanted this. To sleep with Remy right there at his side. A warm, solid presence, keeping him safe all night long. He’d be a fool to turn that down. He’d be a fool to turn down any chance of getting Remy in his bed. Moments like these were going to be all he had to hold on to if Remy walked away from him again. Why fight them? Not having them wouldn’t make the pain any less. Better to have them to hold close to his heart for those long, cold nights alone.

Once Spencer finished with everything and changed into the long sleeved shirt and cotton pants that he usually slept in which had been hanging on the door hook from this morning, he finally made his way back out into the room.

Remy was lying on his bed much as he had been when Spencer had first come in the room. Only this time, he’d shed his shoes and coat first. Both were over at a chair by the wall. He had pillows propped up at the headboard so he was propped up some and there was a stack of folders from Spencer's bag now sitting on the nightstand. Only the lamp on that nightstand lit the room and it was just a low, warm glow. Spencer looked at the scene set here and he felt his heart give a hard throb. This was everything he wanted right here. Everything he could ever want was in this room right now. The rest of it, it didn’t matter.

That realization stunned Spencer. It left him frozen in place. He’d always known just how important Remy was to him. Living a life without him in it had been one of the hardest things that Spencer had ever done. A constant physical ache in his heart. But he had lived. He’d coped. And he would cope again if Remy left him. He was too strong not to. Giving up just wasn’t in him. That, he’d always known. What he hadn’t realized was how much more Remy mattered compared to everything else. If, when all this was said and done, Remy asked him to walk away from this, to walk away from his job and stay with him, Spencer knew deep down inside that he wouldn’t even hesitate to answer. If Remy asked him to stay here, he would stay. If he asked Spencer to leave with him, to go somewhere else and leave all of this behind, Spencer would start to pack. Because he _had_ already lived a life without Remy in it and he knew which life he preferred. He knew in his heart that he would do whatever it took to stay with this man. Yes, he loved his life. He loved his job and his friends. He was happy there. But he wasn’t _whole_. He wasn’t complete. That life, it wasn’t a full life. The most vital piece of all was missing.

That piece was lying right there on his hotel bed, looking up at him with a smile that seared straight through him and opening his arms once again. Spencer left all his nerves behind as he walked over to the bed. When Remy lifted the blankets, he didn’t hesitate to slide right in. He let Remy draw him in close against his side and it was perfect. It was exactly what he needed. Spencer tucked his head into that little dip at Remy’s shoulder, what they had always jokingly called his ‘cuddle spot’, and he sighed into the man’s embrace. One hand was tucked under them while the other came up to rest over Remy’s heart. He felt a kiss be pressed against the top of his hair while Remy’s arm wrapped around him and came to rest over his side. “Sleep, m’ lil lucky Penny. I’ll watch over y’.” Remy murmured.

Spencer's lips curved into a sleepy smile as he let his eyes drift shut. For the first time in six years, he fell asleep feeling as if everything in his world was exactly where it needed to be.


	9. Chapter 9

Spencer had the most peaceful night of sleep in years snuggled up tight against Remy. Too bad it didn’t last. It was close to six thirty in the morning when the call came in to Spencer's cell phone that there was another body. He had just enough time to dress before meeting up with Derek downstairs to head out to the crime scene. Remy didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Spencer's hurried movements once the phone was shut off. He just sat up and drew on his own shoes and coat while Spencer raced into the bathroom to quickly relieve himself, brush his teeth, and dress in clean clothes. It was once he was dressed and as he was brushing his teeth that something came to Spencer. He poked his head out of the bathroom door to glare over at the man standing in his room. “I thought you weren’t going to go out alone.” He demanded around his toothbrush.

The grin that Remy flashed his way didn’t impress him. When Spencer just kept scowling, Remy laughed and waved a hand at him. “Quit y’r worryin’, Spencer. Go finish brushing y’r teeth. I didn’t come int’ town alone. Wolvie dropped me off. I warned him I might stay de night and he said he’d say in town and t’ call him when I was ready t’ go. Once y’r gon’ wit’ de ot’ers, I’ll give him a call and have him come get me.”

“Wolvie?” Spencer replayed that over in his mind as he bent and spit toothpaste into the sink. Realization hit and his eyes went wide. He stared at his surprised reflection in the mirror. “Wait a moment…do you mean Wolverine? As in, _the_ Wolverine?”

“ _Oui_.” Remy called back.

Holy shit. Spencer gaped at his reflection for a moment longer. Then he did the only thing he could. He shook his head and went back to rinsing out his mouth. When he finally finished and came back out into the main room, he gave Remy an amused and exasperated look. “You are the only person I know of that would dare call someone as dangerous as that man something as ridiculous as Wolvie and somehow still manage to be alive. Because I am assuming you call him that to his face.”

Remy’s broad grin was back again. “Duh.”

The obvious humor in that had Spencer rolling his eyes at the same time as a small smile tugged at his lips. Only Remy. Only he would do something like that and think it both normal and funny. Spencer shook his head again and grabbed his messenger bag and slung it on and then attached his gun. Then, he went to the nightstand to grab his phone. Caught up in the seeming normalness of their morning, his mind mostly directed ahead of him on the case and this newest victim, and still riding the high of a perfect night in Remy’s arms, Spencer moved without even thinking about it. He turned just enough to press up against Remy and he caught the back of his neck, tugging him down for a quick yet heated kiss. “Be safe.” He said when they broke apart. Still hurrying, focusing more on the case ahead of him than on what he was doing, he missed the stunned look on Remy’s face. He hurried over and grabbed his key off the counter and called out over his shoulder “Have a good day. I love you!” and then he was out the door and racing down the hall.

It wasn’t until he was in the lobby of the hotel that what he’d done registered with him. Spencer actually missed a step when it hit him. Jesus! He’d just kissed Remy on his way out and gave him the same goodbye he’d used to give when he’d be hurrying out the door for school back in the day. How many times had that same scene played out back then? He’d spend half his night studying until Remy had enough and forced him to bed. Then he’d be up in time for morning classes and rushing because he was running late as usual. He’d be gathering things from here and there all around the place, because somehow he never put everything in just _one_ spot, and then he’d always grab Remy and kiss him, warn him to be safe, and tell him “Have a good day. I love you!” and he’d head out the door. Just like this morning.

There was no real time for Spencer to dwell on it, or to worry about what Remy’s reaction might’ve been, though it did play in the back of his thoughts off and on. Any good of the morning was lost when Spencer arrived at the crime scene. Their newest victim was murdered more brutally than any of their previous, an obvious testament to the Unsub’s rage, and still there were no clues. There was another note, though. Just a simple _‘I’ll keep hunting until I find him. You can’t hide him forever!_ ’ and that was it. Though he knew he shouldn’t, Spencer couldn’t help the guilt he felt.

Things didn’t get any better when they got to the station. The press was running with this story now and they’d found out about the notes being sent to one of their agents, somehow. That wasn’t a pretty thing. The whole mess was keeping everyone on their toes. They were trying everything they could to catch this man. So far, he seemed to be a ghost. For the next two nights they set up at different clubs inside of his comfort zone in hopes of being able to see something, anything, which might help them. Officers and agents toured the clubs with the Unsub’s picture in hopes that someone might recognize him. Nothing. They were all pushing themselves to the limits to try and catch this guy. They were running so much, Spencer only had a chance for a quick check-in each night with Remy just to make sure the man was still okay and nothing had happened. Neither one of them mentioned the other night or the morning after. They just checked in and kept going. There was too much on their plates right now.

It was two mornings later that they finally got their first break. The break that could mean solving the case.

They got another survivor. And she brought back an item of the Unsub’s with her.

* * *

The team knew that the Unsub always seemed to be a step ahead of them. They needed anything that might give them an edge. Anything at all.

Spencer knew that the item that the girl had snagged from the Unsub—a necklace that she’d yanked off him accidentally—would be his best chance at connecting with the Unsub and getting a vision. But until it was done being checked and fingerprinted and examined, there was no way he was going to be able to get it out of the way to be able to touch it without being seen. To keep him distracted from it and to kill time, Aaron sent him with Emily to the hospital to interview the victim, hoping that his two least imposing agents would be able to get her to talk some. So, much as he hated victim interviews, he went along with Emily to this one. They’d already been warned that she was reluctant to speak with them. When they got into the room, it was easy for Spencer to see why. There were two officers stationed outside of the door and one of them made a point to tell them, as they went through the door, that “The girl’s one of them muties, so you two be careful in there. Lord knows what her kind will do to ya. Her and her freaky friends.”

Spencer made a mental note to speak with the Captain later about the conduct of his officers and to make sure that he saw someone else assigned to her watch before he left. There was no way he’d leave the poor girl with this asshole as one of her guards even if it meant he had to take a watch himself until someone else could come.

The word ‘friends’ registered with Spencer and broke through his other thoughts. He looked up and into the room and immediately noticed the two women at the girl’s bedside. With a practiced eye Spencer looked them all over and he knew that Emily was doing the same beside him. The girl in the bed looked sore and battered but very much alert. Her face was bruised, as were her neck and arms, and there was one cut he could clearly see along her left arm. Her blond hair was cut short, almost boyish in style, and her eyes showed him how the man outside knew she was a mutant. They were most definitely lizard like, a straight brown with a large pupil and a thin film over them that told him that she had a nictitating membrane such as some lizards do to protect their eyes.

Directly to her left stood a tall, pretty woman with bright red hair and sharp eyes that were assessing Emily and Spencer even as she was being assessed. At her side was a dark skinned beauty with shockingly white hair. It was that woman who stepped towards the end of the bed and extended her hand towards them. “Hello there, Agents.”

Emily shook the woman’s hand, giving her greeting, and then that slender hand was in front of him and Spencer couldn’t refuse as he usually would have. He found himself actually reaching out and shaking her hand, much to his surprise and Emily’s as well.

A low grade tingle started at the base of Spencer's skull with just enough warning for him to lock his knees against the quick images that followed. They were short and quick, yet surprisingly clear, and they only lasted a moment. As soon as she let go, they stopped and he was left staring at her, the images still dancing in his mind. He’d seen a younger version of her, running down the street and laughing as someone chased after her. Another of her, sitting on the edge of a rooftop, still young, and at her side was someone that brought to life a strong brotherly love for her—Remy. This woman knew Remy!

She confirmed it only a second later. Folding her hands in front of herself, she gave Spencer a smile that was much warmer than what she’d had on moments before. “You must be this friend of Remy’s that I have heard about. I am Ororo. My brother speaks highly of you.”

Heat colored Spencer's cheeks. “Oh, well.” He cleared his throat and looked away, slightly embarrassed and not quite sure why. “I, ah, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid and this is Agent Emily Prentiss. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ororo.”

“And you must be Kylie Baker.” Emily said, stepping up to the girl’s bedside. She was wearing that kind expression that always seemed to set people so at ease. “I’m Agent Prentiss and I’m here to take your statement, if you feel up to it. You think you might be able to answer a few questions for us?”

Kylie looked at Emily and Spencer and then over to the two women. The redhead at her bedside put a comforting hand on her shoulder and Kylie eased a little at that. She looked back at Emily and nodded. “Okay.”

“Great. Are you all right if Dr. Reid steps up here and joins us? He doesn’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, Kylie.”

Kylie looked at him and gave a little nod. “It’s fine.” Her voice was just a little hoarse but it was strong. The girl had strength in her yet.

Spencer let Emily lead them through the questions. The girl doesn’t seem to mind him but he doesn’t want to stress her. He’s keeping an eye on their guests and on Kylie’s body language while Emily handles the actual questions. She got Kylie started on talking about the club, about what she’d been doing. “A few friends and I were just having some fun.” Kylie told them, that hoarseness still in her voice. Ororo brought her a glass of water and she gratefully took a drink. Her voice was clearer when she kept talking. “We were just trying to unwind, you know? And this club, we’d heard it was a little more tolerant than most. No one seemed to be giving me any trouble for my eyes, anyways, and that’s unusual. So I was pretty happy, you know? I just kind of, well, let loose.”

“You relaxed.” Spencer said. He tried to project understanding when she looked towards him. “For the first time you were in a place where you weren’t being judged or ridiculed for being different and you let yourself go a little bit. It’s completely understandable. I don’t imagine you get that opportunity much. It’s too risky other places.”

The girl nodded at him and she seemed to actually relax a little at his words. The fact that he didn’t flinch from her eyes seemed to relax her even more. “That’s exactly it. I’m usually watching really hard around me even when I’m out having fun cause not everyone’s that nice. People like me, we’ve got to be careful. But I didn’t feel like I had to while I was there. Stupid me. I should’ve been paying attention.”

“You are not to blame for this.” Emily reassured her. “What someone else does is not your fault.”

Kylie nodded at her but her eyes slanted to Spencer. His words had obviously impacted her before and since he’d understood before, she was checking now to see what he thought. Neither Emily nor Spencer missed that subtle cue. Discreetly, the two shifted, Emily slipping back slightly and Spencer taking a small step forward. They were barely movements but they were just enough to put Spencer more towards Kylie and Emily in the background. The two both knew that with that subtle little hint, Kylie was showing just who her comfort was with, and they were trained to use that. He took another step closer, putting himself close to her hip at the side of the bed. “She’s right, Kylie. What happened to you isn’t your fault. That choice was made by the Unsub, no one else.”

Her lips trembled a little, but she offered him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Can you tell us what happened next?”

“I went outside to try and cool off. I felt real hot, you know? Just that many bodies in one space, it makes you sweat. So I went outside for some fresh air. While I was standing there, I heard something in the alley. It sounded like someone, someone moaning, but not a _good_ kind. Like, painful, right? I know I shouldn’t have, but I went to look. I couldn’t just leave someone in there that was hurt!”

“It’s okay, Kylie. What happened next?”

Her breathing sped up a little and he saw her heart rate increase on the machine at her bedside. Those unique eyes of hers went a little wider. “I was halfway down the alley when I saw something strange. I see really well at night, you know? I, I was looking and I saw something move, right by this dumpster, and I jumped back and this board caught my arm instead of my head. I tried to run away but this guy moved fast. He, he jumped on me and there was something p-pushing at me and it got real hard to, to move…” Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart jumped even higher. One of her hands reached out and before Spencer could prepare himself, she caught hold of him.

The usual tingle at the base of his skull was more like an electric jolt this time. It physically shocked him and he knew he gasped just as the vision hit him and washed out the world around him.

_Dark, strange lights. Different. Hard, heat, shoving him/her back against the wall, fists flying. It hurts, it hurts! Can’t move, can’t stop it, can’t get away. Pressure everyone. Body, mind, everywhere. S/he couldn’t move as the man threw another punch and hit her/him in the face and knocked her/him to the ground._

The vision grew stronger and blended even more and spencer sank deeper in it, unable to stop it, until they were no longer separate. Until he _was_ her.

_He was hitting her and it hurt, it hurt so much, make it stop! The pressure on her mind grew stronger, sharper, keeping her still, and she fought with everything she had. Fought to shove up the shields she’d learned a long time ago. They didn’t want to go up, resisted every inch of the way, but she fought. She gave up caring about trying to move her body and just fought to shove up her shields. They go up little by little, just tiny bits, and he’s hurting her, he’s hurting her so much. Her heart’s racing, she’s gasping and trying to sob and he’s cursing her. “I’ll show you. All you filth! Out there in those nasty places, flaunting your nasty bodies, thinking you’re better than everyone just because you’re beautiful. You think being pretty makes you perfect. I’ll show you pretty. They won’t think you’re pretty when I’m done with you!” His hot breath is in her face and she can feel his erection against her thigh. He’s excited at the thought of cutting her apart._

_A car horn honks in the background so loudly at He jumps and she feels just enough of a gap to shove her shields up almost half way. Not all the way, but enough. She moves her hand and, yes, it moves! Gathering air in lungs that now obey her command, she screams and slams her fist into his face, clawing at his neck. The necklace catches on her hand and tears as he yanks back, his knife slicing her arm as he does. She screams again and someone else shouts and suddenly he’s gone, he’s running and he’s gone, and she sobs. She curls her body up and sobs as people come racing into the alley._

The vision released him as abruptly as it grabbed him and Spencer stumbled back from it. He almost fell against the chair and ended up stumbling back even further. Images were racing around inside of his head and one thing came through clear as a bell—he had to get out of here, _now_. Now! Before he emptied his stomach all over the floor.

Spencer jerked away from the hands that were reaching out to touch him. He had just enough control to gasp out “Excuse me, I don’t feel well” and then he was moving to the door, yanking it open and slipping outside. Let them think he was acting like some rookie too sick to hear a victim account. Let them think whatever they wanted. As soon as he was in the hallway, he ran. He ran straight down the hall and around the corner and thanked everything when he saw the bathroom sign. He said another thanks when he tore inside and found it empty. He had just enough time to lock the door before his stomach started rising. He didn’t even make it to the toilet. He grabbed the garbage can at his side and bent over while his stomach emptied itself in great, gasping heaves. He threw up until there was nothing left in him to bring up. When it finally quit, his body slumped and he dropped down to his knees right where he was. His stomach wasn’t whirling anymore but his heart was racing and he couldn’t catch his breath. There, kneeling on a hospital bathroom floor, Spencer had a panic attack like he hadn’t had in years.

Memories and images raced around in his mind. Kylie’s memories tore at him and brought to life his own. He could feel the Unsub breathing in Kylie’s face like it was his own, could feel how excited the man was at the prospect of tearing her to shreds, at ruining her beauty. He could feel Creed pressing hot and hard against his side, groping at him and breathing in his ear, threatening to do more to him the next time he saw him. He could feel the knife cut down Kylie’s arm. He could feel Creed’s claws shredding across his chest.

How long he knelt there, he had no idea. The panic attack raged through him until he thought for sure he was going to pass out from it. Then, little by little, as he separated Kylie’s memories from him own, as he pushed his own back down into that locked box they stayed in, he got himself back under control. His breathing evened out and his heart stopped pounding so hard. Another few minutes and he actually found the strength to push up off the ground.

He took a few minutes to splash water on his face and try to fix his appearance. His whole body felt exhausted. Like he’d just run miles and miles without a break. All he wanted was to go back to the hotel and curl up in his bed and sleep for the next six hours, at least. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t indulge in that. _You have a job to do_ he scolded himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. _So quit whining and do it!_

Twenty minutes after he’d raced out of that room, Spencer made his way towards the waiting area where he’d been told Emily was waiting for him. The two officers outside of Kylie’s room had directed him that way. Just as he rounded the corner away from them and towards the waiting area, Spencer remembered his earlier thought and he pulled out his cell phone, making a quick call to Derek. He’d just reached the waiting area when Derek answered. _“What’s up, kid?”_

“I was hoping you could do me a quick favor, Morgan.” Spencer's voice caught the attention of Emily, who was sitting in a chair against the wall by the two women who had been in the room before. Ororo and the other one. Spencer gave them all a brief wave but kept his attention focused on the phone. “Do you think you could speak with Hotch or Captain Eric and see if they might be able to send a replacement guard down to the hospital? One of the men guarding the door was very vocally anti-mutant, making a point to state it when the door was open, and our victim is clearly a mutant. She doesn’t need that kind of disrespect. She’s been through a traumatic experience and the last thing she needs is to have to listen to that.”

_“No shit. I’ll get right on it, Reid. We’ll make sure someone gets sent down there. You guys should get back here quick, though. We’ve got a potential eyewitness coming in. Someone who claims they might’ve seen our Unsub at the club last night. Plus, the necklace is finally free and Hotch has it here in a room waiting for you.”_

The idea of using his powers again had Spencer shivering. He pushed that feeling down, though, and gestured at Emily to join him. He watched her rise to her feet and she quickly came up to his side as he started towards the exit. “We’re on our way now, Morgan. Did they have a name?”

That perked Emily up. She made a gesture at him as they went out the door and Spencer pulled the phone down and hit the speaker button, after a quick look around to make sure no one was close. As they stepped up to the SUV, Derek’s voice filled the air around them. _“The guy isn’t sure if it’s the same person as in the drawings. There are some differences, he said. He doesn’t have a real name for us, just a nickname. Says if it’s who he thinks it is, the guy’s just called Trigger. A nickname is friends call him or something like that. We’ve got Garcia searching for more crimes like this in a wider area with anything connected to that name. Hopefully something comes up. Did the victim give you anything more?”_

“Not a whole lot.”Emily said as she slid into the driver’s seat. She cast a look over at Spencer when he sat, but she didn’t mention him running out of the room.

Secure inside the car and able to tell by Derek’s voice that the man didn’t have them on speakerphone, Spencer felt safe in saying “She touched my hand when she was talking and I saw her attack. The pictures need to be edited. I was right when I told Remy that I thought he had a scar through his eyebrow. He does. But that’s not what interests me. It’s what he _said_ to her.”

Emily gave him a surprised look. “She didn’t say anything about what he said. Just that he kept mumbling at her.”

Spencer nodded quickly. “She was too focused on trying to fight off everything else and on pulling up her mental shields. But she still subconsciously registered it, so it was there in her memories when I saw it. He kept talking about her beauty.”

“ _Can you remember exactly what he said, Reid?”_ Derek demanded.

Pausing, Spencer forced himself to draw on the thought, pushing aside the ache and focusing on what was important. A second later, he recited the words for them. “He said ‘ _“I’ll show you. All you filth! Out there in those nasty places, flaunting your nasty bodies, thinking you’re better than everyone just because you’re beautiful. You think being pretty makes you perfect. I’ll show you pretty. They won’t think you’re pretty when I’m done with you!’_ That was when he tried to start cutting. But a car horn startled him and gave her enough chance to get her shields up and scream and strike out at him. She screamed a second time and someone responded and that’s when the Unsub ran.”

“This is about destroying beauty for him.” Emily pulled their car out of the parking spot as she spoke and got them out onto the road back towards the station.

“Not just beauty, but beautiful people who he perceives as ‘flaunting’ it. He feels that they’re trying to shove it in everyone’s faces that they’re better than them because they’re beautiful.”

_“I’m going to pass this along to Hotch and Rossi. This is important. Good work, Reid.”_

Emily cast him a smile as he hung up the phone. “He’s right. That was good work, Reid.”

“Yeah.” A little flustered, Spencer dropped his gaze. His voice lowered just a bit and a hint of a stammer touched his words. “I, ah, I’m sorry a-about, you know, back there…”

“Don’t worry about it, Reid.” She cut him off. When he snuck a glance up, she was smiling at him again. “After what you saw, I can’t blame you for running. Honestly, I’m amazed you don’t run more often. You always just keep on keeping on. You’re a pretty tough guy, doctor.”

The honest compliment in her voice mixed with the gentle teasing at the end eased a bit of the hurt that was still inside of Spencer. He settled back into his seat and opened himself up just enough that the kind, positive presence of his friend beside him helped to start washing away some of his darkness.

* * *

Back at the mansion, the X-Men were once more gathered in the War Room, this time to share any information they had and try to plan where to go next. They were no closer to catching this bastard, either, and it was starting to weigh on them all. They had hopes that Jean and Ororo’s visit with the survivor might provide them with something.

All attention was on Jean as she started their report. Even Remy was sitting up straighter, watching her intently. He was damn ready for this whole thing to be done and over with. He wanted the bastard to stop hurting people and he wanted the target off his and Spencer's backs. In hopes of catching something important, he fixed Jean with his full attention, a rare enough occurrence.

“Kylie wasn’t extremely open to speaking with us.” Jean started out. “She was shy and hesitant about opening up to anyone, really. One of the guards at her door was strongly anti-mutant and he’d scared her more than she already was.”

“Bastard.” Logan growled lowly.

Jean didn’t even call him on his language. The soft scowl she wore said she clearly agreed with him. “We’d barely had a chance to talk to her before the FBI agents showed up. An Emily Prentiss and a Spencer Reid.”

That had Remy perking up a little. Spencer had been there? He looked to Ororo, who smiled at him. There was a hint of worry to her eyes, though, that had Remy going on alert. “Did somet’ing happen?” He asked sharply.

She took no offense to his tone. Too used to him to be bothered or worried, Ororo ignored the sharp words and kept her own reply calm and even. “He was very kind and sympathetic to Kylie. He set her at ease and showed her an understanding that surprised her. She opened up to him like she hadn’t to us. She told him of being in the club and stepping out into the alley for a break from the heat. But when she started to describe her attack, she panicked a little and she reached out to him. Then…I am not sure what happened next, brother.”

“Dr. Reid jolted like someone electrocuted him.” Jean supplied, confirming what Remy had already begun to suspect. “Then he froze for a moment. Emily Prentiss was just starting to step towards him when he jerked backwards and almost fell over a chair. He was shaking from head to toe. He told us he didn’t feel well and excused himself and then he ran out of the room. I couldn’t get a read on him, his walls are too good, but he had the look of someone about to lose their lunch.”

Shit, shit, shit! Remy snapped back in his chair and fought the urge to curse out loud. There was no doubt in his mind what had happened. How many times had he seen Spencer use his powers? How many times had he seen the man be jolted by what he saw, or sick afterwards? If this Kylie had been talking about her attack when she touched him, then most likely that was what Spencer had seen. He would’ve been forced to live through Kylie’s attack with her. He could easily imagine what kind of memories that might’ve triggered in Spencer. A guy who cuts people up with a knife? Yeah, it was no great leap to figure out where Spencer's stressed mind would’ve gone. Dammit!

A huge part of Remy wanted to race out of the room and go find Spencer wherever he was. He wanted to find him and take him aside and hold him tightly until all that panic was gone. Until he felt safe; until they both felt safe again.

While all of this raced through him, his outside stayed calm. No one had a clue the turmoil that his mind was in.

“Do you have any idea what that might’ve been with him, Remy?” Jean asked him curiously. “Ororo said that he was an old friend of yours. Do you have any idea what might’ve happened there?”

Remy looked up at her and had absolutely no qualms about innocently shaking his head no and lying his ass off. “ _Non,_ cher. Aint seen de man in six years until just recently. Maybe he just aint comfortable wit’ some t’ings. He’s always been a soft soul.”

That seemed to satisfy her for the moment, though Remy didn’t notice two different sets of eyes watching him curiously. He sat back in his chair and let the rest of the meeting wash over him as he tried to squash down the urge to hunt down Spencer and play protector. The man was a Fed now, fully capable of doing his job, and judging by the end of Jean’s story as he listened to her tell it, Spencer had come out looking the worse for wear but talking and moving normally. When he heard her mention, with just a hint of surprise in her voice, that Spencer had ordered a new guard to replace the anti-mutant one at Kylie’s door, he felt a swell of pride. That was his Spencer.

By the time the meeting was done and everyone had been given their new assignments to do, Remy was ready to get the hell out of here. Maybe he couldn’t just go straight out and hunt Spencer down .He could, however, slip into his hotel room tonight and make sure he was okay. And while he waited around to do that, he could try and see if he could find out anything more in town. Sitting around doing nothing just wasn’t his style. Maybe Logan would be willing to go in with him. Then he wouldn’t have to break his word about not going anywhere alone.

“Remy.” Scott called out his name as everyone started to rise and leave the room. He waited for Remy to look at him before saying “Stay a minute, please.”

Huh. Great. Remy leaned against the table and waited for the others to leave. Only Logan stuck around, waiting by the door. Scott ignored him. He sat back in his chair and his full attention was on Remy. After a moment of quiet, he finally spoke. “You know what that was about, don’t you.” Not a question; a statement. “Is it important?”

There was no point in pretending he didn’t know what Scott was talking about. The man was too damn sharp for his own good sometimes. “Maybe.” He couldn’t answer that last question for sure. He can’t know for sure until he knew what it was that Spencer saw. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell Scott that. He wasn’t going to give away Spencer's secret. Let the man suspect all he wanted. Remy wasn’t going to confirm anything.

Scott nodded at him as if Remy _had_ confirmed something. He pushed up from his chair and stood at Remy’s side. “Let me know.” That was all he said before he turned and walked away.

Remy watched him go for a moment before shaking his head in surprise. Scott was just going to leave it at that? He wasn’t going to nag at him for it? Wow. Would miracles never cease? Later on he was going to have to check Scott over to make sure he hadn’t been replaced by a pod person.

A low sound reminded Remy that he wasn’t alone. He looked over to find Logan still standing by the door. The feral was watching him curiously, like he was some kind of puzzle. Remy furrowed his eyebrows and stared back. “What, _homme_? Remy got somet’ing on his face or what?”

“Ya look stressed.” Logan said bluntly. “And I don’t think it’s about this killer stalking ya. But I do think it’s got something to do with that kid ya went to see the other night. What’s going on, bub?”

Remy’s instinctive response was to deny everything. He stopped himself before the words could come out. After a long pause, he shrugged one shoulder and gestured with his head towards the door. Logan understood the silent gestures. Not here, they said. He and Logan set out together and made their way upstairs. It wasn’t until they were walking through the backyard, down towards the lake, that Remy finally spoke up. Here, with a friend who always listened to him no matter what, he gave vent to the torrent of thoughts and words inside of him. If there was anyone who would listen without laughing or mocking, it was Logan. “T’ings has gone t’ hell lately, Wolvie. If it aint one t’ing, it’s another.”

“This got something to do with that kid ya went and saw? This Spencer kid?”

“ _Oui_.” Remy let out a frustrated growl. He reached down into his trench and pulled out a pack of smokes. When he had one lit, he drew in a deep drag and blew the smoke out over their heads. They’d reached the dock by now and he stopped at Logan’s side, staring out at the water. Being here, in a place he’d first confessed to Logan about Spencer, somehow made it a little easier to talk about it now. He found himself telling Logan everything. About Spencer being the person he’d told him about before. About how hard it was to see him and how much he wanted to see him. And about the decision he was supposed to make. “I don’t know what t’ do, Logan.” The fact that he called him Logan, not Wolvie like he usually did, was a clue to how serious he was. “I don’t know which choice is de better one.”

Logan was puffing on his own cigar by now. He snorted out a stream of smoke. “Seems like a simple one to me.”

That made Remy snort right back at him. “De hell it is. De one t’ing it aint is simple. None of it’s simple. I fucked up de last time, bad, an either way I go right now, I just see de chance t’ fuck up again. If I walk away, I lose him fo’ever. If I tell him I want t’ try again, if I let m’self try t’ be wit’ him, den dere’s a whole barrel of shit dere too. He’s a Fed, I’m one of de X-Men. I got even more enemies dan b’fore; enemies dat wouldn’t hesitate t’ try and go fo’ him if dey knew. And he’s angry at me. He’s clear about what he wants, _mais_ he’s still angry wit’ me, and dat aint gon’ just go away cause I say I want t’ be wit’ him.” He growled and glared down at his cigarette as if it were responsible for this whole mess of shit. “What de hell do I do? Dere’s hurt in both directions. How do I know which one’s de right choice?”

“Oh, quit yer whining.”

“ _Excusez-moi_?” Remy demanded, spinning to glare at his friend.

Logan arched a brow at him, not even bothered by Remy’s threatening glare. The Cajun didn’t scare him and they both knew it. He poked a finger at him, ignoring the increased glare. “I said to quit yer whining, Gumbo.” The feral growled at him, rolling his eyes. “I’m sick and tired of the poor me act ya got going on here.”

“Now just a damn minute, old man…!”

“Can it, bub.” Logan punctuated the words with a growl and a threatening claw that was suddenly poking against Remy’s shirt right over his heart. The threat there was enough to have the Cajun standing still. He knew Logan wouldn’t hurt him, but he also knew his friend _could_ if he truly wanted to. Sharp blue eyes pinned him in place and kept him silent even more than the claw did. “I’ve listened to ya talk and whine about what to do and what’s going on and all that bullshit. And ya know what? Yer an idiot. A fucking idiot. You say ya don’t know what to do? I think the choice is pretty damn obvious! Any idiot can tell yer happier since he showed up than you’ve been the whole damn time you’ve lived here!” Growling again, Logan took a step forward, his eyes going even harder. “I know ya love the kid. And from what you’ve said, for some insane reason the stupid kid actually still loves yer dumb ass, even after the shit you’ve put him through. So what the hell are ya doing standing back whining about it all? You’ve got something the rest of us just dream about and yer wasting it. So either shut yer trap or get up off yer lazy ass and go do something about it before the kid wizens up and realizes he’s done waiting around for someone that don’t give a damn enough to fight for him!”

With those last barked words, Logan spun and marched away, leaving a stunned Remy behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

By the time Spencer and Emily made it back to the station, things were abuzz with information about their ‘witness’. Sure enough, the picture of their Unsub seemed to match up with the witness’s description of ‘Trigger’, especially now that they added in the scar that Spencer mentioned. Spencer and Emily came in to the conference room as Aaron was giving Penelope information to run through her databases and also having her get started on searching through footage outside the club to try and see if they could match it to their mystery man. What this meant for Spencer was that he was delayed in getting a chance to touch the Unsub’s necklace. While the team wasn’t averse to using his powers to help them, regular police work came first. Things that they could use as tangible proof. Some days Spencer wanted to protest that. He was more than willing to offer himself up to help save someone. But today he actually let out a little sigh of relief when Aaron discreetly told him to take a seat and relax while they waited to see what needed to be done.

Derek, bless him, came over once Spencer was seated and brought him a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin. Things to help wake him back up and hopefully reenergize him.

Someone came in and called out to Aaron, drawing their Unit Chief out of the room. That left the rest of the BAU team sitting around the table. They all pulled folders towards themselves and set about reviewing any information they had. They were bound and determined to do everything they could to catch this killer today. His spree had gone on for too long.

Spencer sat back in his chair and turned to face the victimology board. Now that they knew that the Unsub was going after beauty, it was easy to see. Even the earlier victims, the prostitutes, were pretty in a way. They were all people that the Unsub would’ve perceived as people who put their looks proudly out there. Prostitutes flaunted their looks as a part of their job. It was how they drew customers in. And each one of the victims from the clubs had all been reported to be happy, outgoing people. The kind who were happy to be dancing in the middle of a crowded room and who seemed to enjoy the looks it got them. Spencer's eyes drifted to Remy’s picture, as they inevitably did, and he smiled slightly. Yeah, that described Remy. He loved being out in a crowd, loved dancing, and loved making himself the center of attention. He definitely loved to be admired, the little peacock. Too many years of being told his looks were his only true worth had left him with a bit of a twisted self-image. He had a hard time believing that anyone could actually care about him for who he was. Too many people had just wanted a quick roll in the hay with that beautiful body. When morning rolled around, they wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

 _Their loss_ , Spencer thought. The outside was gorgeous, of that there was no doubt, but it didn’t hold a candle to the man on the inside. Remy’s heart and soul were the most beautiful aspect of the man.

“So you know that guy, hm?”

Jordan’s voice cut into Spencer's thoughts. He jerked a little and looked at her, finding her and the others watching him. He flushed slightly at the realization that he’d basically been caught out staring at a picture of Remy like some love-struck teenager. He cleared his throat, shooting a quick glare to Derek, who was chuckling lowly at him. Then he looked back at Jordan. She was still watching him, smiling slightly. “Um, yeah. Yes. I’ve known Remy for quite a few years.” Spencer said.

“How did you two meet?”

Now that brought a smile to Spencer's lips. It was his turn to chuckle now while he looked at Remy’s picture once more. That devil-may-care smile tugged at his heart the same as it always did. To Spencer's surprise, he found himself relaxing a little, actually _wanting_ to tell his friends about this, even just a little. It felt good to think of telling them something positive about Remy. To talk about Remy at all to them, really. For too long he’d kept that part of his heart secret and sheltered. “Actually, he hit me with his car.” Spencer grinned.

“What?” Emily asked with a laugh.

Derek shook his head, chuckling again, and David let out a laugh. “Only you, Reid.”

Jordan just looked shocked. “He hit you with his _car_? How on earth did that lead to being friends?”

“Well, he pretty much stayed with me at the hospital for the day they kept me and we just kind of connected. Remy’s just,” Pausing, Spencer shrugged his shoulder. “He’s fun and easy to be around. He’s got a way of making you feel comfortable around him. He never minded my awkwardness or my rambling or anything like that. Sometimes he’d encourage a ramble, just because he could.” A memory flashed through Spencer's mind and he let out a low chuckle. “He did it deliberately one afternoon, just to see how long he could keep me talking with minimal input from him.”

“How long did you go?” Emily asked. There was good humor dancing in her eyes and a smile tugging at her lips.

Cheeks flushing, Spencer nonetheless smiled at them. “Two hours and fifty seven minutes. Then someone knocked on the front door and we had to cut off.”

The whole room was echoing with laughter when the door opened and Aaron came walking in. One look at his face had that laughter cutting off. The serious looking man turned his gaze to Jordan first. “The Captain is having a bit of trouble with the media out front. I need you to go out there and give him a hand on how to help calm them down before they get too out of control.”

“I’m on it.” Jordan said quickly.

Aaron waited until she’d left and then he shut the door firmly behind her, one finger pressing down on the lock. That was all he needed to do to let the others know what was going on. Everyone caught the clue quickly and moved into action. Spencer shifted around in his chair and made his body more comfortable and a little more stable. Emily and Derek went to the windows and twisted the blinds shut so that the room was private. David grabbed the evidence bag that they needed and brought it around the table to where Spencer was sitting. It was kind of funny, really, how easily they all moved. How automatic it had become. Spencer looked at his friends and felt that same amazement and appreciation that he always did in moments like this. These people didn’t just accept that he had powers; they embraced it. They didn’t just use him for those abilities. They’d all taken the time to understand as best as they could how it worked for him and what could happen and ways to help. He was damn lucky in having them for friends and he knew it.

He cradled the evidence bag in his hand once David handed it to him. Such a small thing, this necklace. Nothing that important about it. A cross, like countless other people wore. It seemed strange to think that this cross had hung around the neck of someone who could do the things this Unsub could do.

There was no time to put this off. Who knew how long they’d have before someone knocked at the door? Spencer steeled himself in preparation for what might be coming even as he knew that nothing could prepare him for the feel of touching that sick mind he’d felt in bits and pieces so far. This item was personal to the Unsub. That meant that whatever connection Spencer could make, whatever visions he’d get, would be much stronger than the ones he’d gotten off the notes. The more personal the item, the stronger his connection was. He drew in one last deep breath and then opened the bag and tipped it into his palm. Then he opened up his shields and he let himself _feel_.

The metal was cool against his skin. Metal chain, metal cross. But he could feel the heat from where it had once brushed skin. Chest. It had hung on his chest. It had felt so cool the day that PopPop gave it to him. _Wore this my whole life, boy. It’s yours now._ PopPop had died not much later and the young boy had grieved for his loss. Grieved for the only person in the world who had understood him. The only one who hadn’t given him pain.

Spencer shuddered and bowed his head down, hair coming to shelter his face. His hand curled around the necklace and he pushed deeper, harder, reaching for more. Pushing past the childhood memories that pulsed out at him.

Nothing was jumping out at him. Spencer tried not to grimace with the disappointment. He’d been hoping for something, anything. Not these past memories. He lifted his head and looked to his friends, who were circled around him, and he opened his mouth to speak.

A blast of intense satisfaction and excitement rocked through Spencer and cut his words off before they left his mouth. Followed quickly on its heels was a dark pleasure that soon encompassed everything else. Spencer pushed past his own sickness and embraced the emotions, letting the connection in him, and he closed his eyes while opening his mind to the vision. Between one breath and the next, the tingle hit the base of his skull and he was gone.

The vision only held him for a brief moment. Just that moment and then his eyes were snapping back open once more. Instead of the usual exhaustion that would’ve come after such a strong vision, Spencer's whole body was lit with adrenaline. His eyes snapped open and all his muscles went taunt. Spencer battled back fear and anger and tried to force himself out of the vision and back into the present moment. Panicking would do no good right now. Now was time to be calm; controlled. He needed to keep a level head. Spencer let that conviction fill him and firm his voice. “Nicholas Barnes.” Spencer dropped the necklace on the table and pushed up to his feet. “His name is Nicholas Barnes.”

Within ten minutes the BAU team as well as the local cops and a SWAT team were on their way out. How it was that Aaron managed to take what Spencer gave him and turn it into something that not only convinced others, but was done in a legal fashion, Spencer would never know. He was never quite together enough after a vision to pay enough attention. It was just another of those ways that he was blessed by the friends he had. All he knew was that they were on their way and, one way or another, this was going to be over today. On their way there, they contacted Penelope and had her get them everything she could on Nicholas Barnes. It was with her that they matched the sketch with the man’s picture and confirmed what Spencer knew. Nicholas was their Unsub. She gave them his home address and his work address. The man was a bar owner. Half the team went towards the house while the other half headed towards the bar. Aaron, David and Jordan were with the team going to the house. Derek, Emily and Spencer were going to the bar.

Spencer didn’t even notice at first that he’d pulled his necklace out and was holding the ring. Then he looked down and saw the long chain leading to his fist. He clenched his hand just a little tighter so that he could feel the ring actually pressing into his palm. They’d catch this Unsub and Remy would be safe again. This guy wouldn’t be hunting him anymore. He’d be safe and this would be over. And then…then they would talk. Then, maybe, they would finally have that dinner date they’d talked about before.

They were halfway to their destination, heading to a club that the man worked at, when that tingling hit Spencer again. He had a brief moment to give thanks that he wasn’t the one driving the car. Then he shuddered as the vision slid over him.

_“Well look who just wandered in here.” Nicholas looked so pleased with himself. His grin stretched wide. “I didn’t even have to find you. You found me.”_

_He wasn’t afraid. A sneer curled his lips and he looked the man over from head to toe. This was the guy who wanted to kill him? Remy gave a snort of derision. “Y’r de big bad everyone’s huntin’ fo’? Y’ don’t seem so scary t’ me.”_

_The guy’s grin grew a little. “That’s not the tune you were whistling that night.”_

_“Y’ jumped me like some coward in de dark. Waited till I was alone and drunk and den y’ attacked. Dat aint so tough. Any weakling can do dat.” Remy grinned as the guy looked furious. It felt damn good to taunt him. Damn good! “I aint alone dis time, homme, and it aint de middle of de night. Y’ still t’ink y’ can stand up against me? Or y’ gon’ run like de coward we both know y’ are?”_

_Fury and hate twisted the man’s features. The nice guy faded away to show the monster that lived just underneath the surface. “You’re just like the rest of them. You think you’re so much better than everyone else. You think just cause you’re good looking, you can act any way you want, treat people any way you want. You think you’re so special just because you’re beautiful. But really, you’re not. You’re just as disgusting on the inside as they all are!”_

_Remy lifted one hand and laid it over his heart. “Aw, cher. Y’ flatter a boy, talkin’ like dat.”_

_A sudden pressure hit Remy, the same as it had that night. Stronger, even. Dieu, it was strong! He’d thought his shields were strong enough. Thought that they would hold. But damn, this man was strong! Fast, too. He cleared the distance between them in no time at all and Remy found a hand fisted in his shirt and he was flying into one of the tables and crashing down to the floor, unable to do anything to save himself. Nicholas was stalking towards him. “Your friends can’t help you. You think you were all smarter than me? Stronger than me? I have them all! They’re mine now, and they won’t stop me.”_

_Fils de putain! Remy gathered all of his strength and threw it to his shields, fighting to shove them up against the mental touch before it was too late_.

Spencer jolted out of his vision with a sharp gasp. He didn’t give anyone time to ask him what was going on. He immediately sat forward in his seat and looked to Morgan, who was driving them. “We need to get to the bar, now! He’s got Remy!”

“What?” Emily demanded. She was turned in her seat, gaping at him. Derek pressed on the gas.

“He’s got Remy.” Spencer repeated. His hands were clenched into fists and the need to get there, now, was pulsing through every inch of him. _Hurry, hurry, hurry_ his mind was chanting over and over at him. He had to get to Remy. He had to get there before the man could do what he was planning on doing.

“How on earth did Remy find him? And _why_ would he go after him?”

“He put the word out with some of his contacts in the city.” Spencer's voice went slightly distant and his eyes took on that glazed look that told those who knew him that he was sifting through what he’d gathered in his vision, tapping into the thoughts, the emotions and the images and sorting out the important information. “Someone called him and told him where to find him at. So he took some friends to go and handle this, because he believes they’re better equipped to handle a mutant.” And through it all clearly ran the thought that, if he handled this, Spencer would be safe. The man wasn’t the least bit concerned for his own safety, damn him. He was more concerned about Spencer's safety even though he wasn’t the one at risk here. The urgency in Spencer grew a little stronger and he felt an echo of pain that he knew wasn’t his. “Faster, Morgan.”

* * *

It took so much for Spencer to not simply barge in when they arrived at the bar. He had to do this right. The only thing that kept him in control was that his friends weren’t going to waste any time. SWAT was right behind them and they’d provide them with backup when they arrived. Emily and Derek both agreed with Spencer that they couldn’t wait. They knew as well as he did just how much risk Remy was in right now. Every moment put him in more and more danger. The trio quickly plotted out what they needed to do and then they moved. Spencer went in the front door, the only one of them they were positive had been able to resist Nicholas so far, and he was the one that Nicholas had called out. They hoped to distract him while Emily and Derek slipped in the side. If they were lucky, they could subdue the man. If not, hopefully his friends were in a strategic enough place to help if it came to it.

Spencer took just one moment to take a deep breath and center himself. Now more than ever he needed to keep himself calm and in control. His very heart depended on it.

What he found when he walked into the bar was enough to test that control. Years of practice were the only thing that kept it in place. Inside, though, he let out a soft mental whimper. This was like a repeat of that first night. The night he’d seen Remy for the first time in years. The Cajun was lying on the ground in the middle of the bar and the Unsub, Nicholas, was crouching over him. Only this time, there were no shadows to hide anything. This time, Spencer could clearly see the man’s fist clenched in Remy’s shirt; see the knife held up in the other hand. He could see as Nicholas spun at the sound of his footsteps. When those eyes locked on him, Spencer saw the madness there. The same madness he’d seen in his first vision and in the vision he’d had with Kylie.

Just as he had that night, Spencer lifted his gun and pointed it straight at Nicholas. “FBI! Drop the weapon, Nicholas!”

Nicholas grinned even wider. “Well isn’t this just perfect?” He asked with a laugh. “You made it, agent! Everything is just perfect now!”

In his earpiece, Spencer heard Derek’s voice. _“Reid, we found some people outside. They’re not moving. I think they might be the kid’s backup. We’ve got them as secure as we can and we’re moving to the side entrance now.”_

Hearing that reminder of backup helped Spencer strengthen himself even more. He chanced a quick look down at Remy. The man was lying totally still. He was bruised and there was blood on his jawline from what looked like a small cut, but he was otherwise okay. He was glaring hotly at Nicholas, so Spencer figured he couldn’t be hurt that badly. Just held in place by the man’s power.

Spencer took all of that in with just a look. Then his eyes focused once more on Nicholas. “Drop the weapon and step away from him, Nicholas.”

“Like hell. This is perfect.” Nicholas grinned down at Remy and then back up to Spencer. “Everything is perfect now. I’ve got you and him both. The one that got away and the one that saved him. And now I can fix this. I can do what I was supposed to and you can watch and see the truth. I’ll show you what he really is inside and you’ll know I’m right. He deserves to die.”

Off to the side, Spencer saw as Derek and Emily slipped in, setting themselves up a safe distance away. Neither one came too close, able to see just how precarious this scene was. Any wrong move and that knife that was over Remy could plunge in. They had to keep that from happening.

Memories of what he’d seen flashed through Spencer's mind, those flashes of childhood that he’d glimpsed while holding that necklace. He let those guide his words and prayed that he wasn’t making a big mistake. “It’s not his fault, Nicholas. He’s not the one that hurt you.” Spencer took a small step forward, his gun never wavering. He kept his voice steady and tried to lower it to project as much understanding as possible. “I know how your mother treated you. I know that she hurt you and belittled you, all because you weren’t as perfect as she thought you should be. She ridiculed you because you weren’t beautiful like her, didn’t she? Made you feel like you were worthless because of it.”

Nicholas’ hand tightened in Remy’s shirt. “I wasn’t the ugly one. She was ugly on the inside, only no one else could see it!”

“They all saw the outside, didn’t they?” Spencer took another small step forward. “No one saw what she was like inside. She was cruel and angry and she took it out on you. But, Nicholas, that doesn’t mean that every beautiful person is the same. Some people are beautiful both outside and in.”

“No!” He shouted. The hand holding the knife shook slightly and Spencer held his breath, not wanting to have to fire but knowing he would if he had to. Nicholas steadied his hand and glared down at Remy briefly before looking back up at Spencer. “You’re letting his looks trick you! He’s not that pretty inside. You’ll see. Inside, he’s just as evil as she was! As they all were!”

Spencer slipped forward another step. He kept his calm and shook his head at the man. “No, Nicholas, he’s not. That man you’ve got there? His name is Remy and I know him. I’ve known him since I was fifteen years old. He’s not what you think he is. If anything, he’s even more beautiful on the inside than he is on the outside. He’s not evil.”

“No! It’s lies, all lies!”

“No, Nicholas. I promise you, it’s not. He’s not like your mother.” Abruptly switching tracks, Spencer said “Look at me, Nicholas. Really look at me. Do you think I’m beautiful?”

That question threw the man off for a moment. “What?”

“Do you think I’m beautiful? Am I one of those beautiful people that you’re after?”

“No.” Nicholas looked him over from head to toe and gave a head shake. “You’re like me. We’re the imperfect people in the world. That’s why you should see how right I am! People like him,” the knife pressed just a little closer to Remy and Spencer held his breath. But Nicholas didn’t press it in, just held it there as he continued to rant. “they hurt people like us. Mock us!”

“Not all of them. Not him. Do you know what he tells me, Nicholas? Do you know what Remy always said to me when he looked at me? He told me I was the most beautiful person he’d ever known. That my imperfections were what made me perfect to him.” Spencer saw his words strike Nicholas, shocking him, and he pressed that advantage. “He never put me down for being different or for being not as beautiful as him. Not everyone with good looks is bad on the inside, Nicholas. What your mother did to you, it was wrong. But these people shouldn’t have to pay for it. Remy shouldn’t have to pay.” Spencer lowered his voice and shifted one last step forward. “You don’t need to do this. Just hand me the knife and we can all walk out of here, Nicholas. All you have to do is step away from him and hand me the knife.”

Nicholas sat as if frozen, his knife just hovering over Remy. Indecision flashed across his face. Then, his body relaxed slightly. He shifted his weight and Spencer was sure he was about to push up to his feet. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Then something shifted on the man’s face and Spencer knew what was going to happen. Nicholas looked up at him and said one single word. “No.” Then he lashed out with his mind, trying to incapacitate, and he flashed out with the knife, lifting it and preparing to plunge it down. Spencer reacted off of an instinct that had been created and trained by his time at the Bureau. Even as he threw his energy into defending his mind, his finger squeezed the trigger. The loud report of his gun echoed through the bar and Nicholas went flying to the side.

The pressure on Spencer's mind vanished as Nicholas hit the ground. Derek and Emily were racing forward, their guns still free, and Spencer kept his at the ready as he stepped forward and quickly kicked the knife away from where it had dropped while placing himself between Remy and the Unsub. He held steady and looked down at the man on the ground and knew, even as Derek bent to check him, that he was already gone. Spencer's bullet had gone true, straight to his chest. He waited until Derek gave him a nod and then he was quickly holstering his gun and spinning around. He dropped down to one knee at Remy’s side and reached out to cup that bruised face. “Are you okay?” His hands ran over him, searching for any signs of injury, anything at all.

Remy caught his hands and used them to yank himself upwards. He used his other hand to hook the back of Spencer's neck and then he yanked him in for a kiss that was hard and fast and carried just a small taste of blood to it from a split in Remy’s lip. Just as quickly as he’d launched up, the Cajun released him, pulling back to stare up in his eyes. Spencer realized that the sunglasses were gone and he lost himself staring down into those glowing depths. “Y’ saved m’ ass, cher.” Remy purred the words out in a voice husky with gratitude and something else that sounded like…was that pride? It couldn’t be. He didn’t waste time thinking about it. Remy was kneading at the back of his neck and smiling at him in that damn sexy way of his. Spencer somehow found it in him to smile, despite everything. To the complete shock of his friends, he reached up and took Remy’s hand off his neck, giving it a squeeze, and he teased “It’s a nice ass. I’d hate to see something happen to it.”

The doors to the bar burst open and SWAT and the local officers came in just as Remy threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

As much as he wanted to, there was no way for Spencer to stay with Remy. Too much work had to be done. Statements had to be given, paramedics had to look at Remy and document his injuries, and the body had to be taken care of. The crime scene was abuzz with activity. Spencer spent quite a bit of time talking with countless people there only to end up back at the station just to do the same thing all over again. Any time an agent discharged their weapon, questions had to be answered. Killing the suspect just upped those questions even more. But with Emily and Derek both there as witnesses, there was no real worry on Spencer's part. Everything was done by the book.

By the time Spencer made it back to his hotel, it was dark outside. The team had one more night here before they were going to leave tomorrow and that meant that Spencer had a lot of thinking to do. Now that the case was done with, there were personal things that couldn’t be ignored anymore. First on the list was calling Remy to make sure he really and truly was okay. Second, well, second, they needed to talk. Their conversation couldn’t be put off anymore. It was time. Spencer wished that thought didn’t fill him full of butterflies.

He should’ve figured that he wouldn’t have to hunt down his Cajun, though. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would’ve known exactly where to find the man. But it still surprised him when he walked into his hotel room and yet again found Remy sitting on his bed. This time he set his bag down on the table after shutting the door and he shook his head at the man. “This is getting to become a habit for you, Remy. Do you have a fondness for breaking into the apartments and hotel rooms of everyone you know, or is it just me?”

Remy flashed him a smirk. “What can I say? Y’r just special, _bébé_.”

That sent a small thrill through Spencer. He squashed it down. No point in getting his hopes up, here. To cover his nerves, he turned away from the man and occupied himself with the process of unhooking his gun from his belt and setting it by his bag. “How’d you check out with the medics? Anything serious?”

“ _Non_ , cher. Just some bruises. I’ve had worse from wrestlin’ wit’ m’ friends. How about y’? How’re y’ doin’?”

“Oh, just fine.” Hands free again, Spencer twined them together, trying not to wring them as he was known to do when nervous. He made himself turn around and face Remy. As was normal, his nerves had him rambling. “There was a ton of paperwork to take care of, of course, and countless questions. Any time a weapon is discharged it brings up questions. But with Morgan and Emily both there, there’s no question as to the necessity of my actions, so I don’t foresee any problems. It was a completely justified shoot.”

Remy nodded his agreement, not the least bit perturbed by how quickly the words had tumbled from Spencer. He treated it as if it were normal. “ _Oui_ , it was. Y’ did what y’ had t’ do, Spencer.” He paused and suddenly Spencer's nerves went a little higher. He saw the way Remy sat up a little straighter, his spine firming, and he knew he was about to hear something serious. Was he ready for this? Oh, God, he didn’t know. Not that he had any choice. Remy reached up and took his sunglasses off and his eyes fixed right on Spencer. “Seein’ y’ out dere like dat, doin’ y’r job, it got me t’inking. I got some t’ings I need t’ say t’ y’ and I need y’ t’ listen t’ me, Spencer. Can y’ do dat?”

Oh, man. Spencer nodded his head. He couldn’t have spoken in that moment to save his life. A knot had formed in his throat that blocked off his voice. It almost blocked off his very breath. He clenched his hands and shoved them down in his pockets to try and keep them from fiddling. This was it. This was their moment. What was going to happen now?

“I know dat y’r an agent, Spencer.” Remy started out slowly, his voice dropping down to that serious tone that told Spencer he was picking his words very carefully, trying to get them right. “I watched y’ from de start and I know y’ know dat. Logically, I’ve known dis whole time dat y’r an agent. I don’t t’ink I really realized it until today, though. Not until I saw y’ in dere talkin’ to dat _homme_ , talkin’ him down. And when I looked up at y’, I realized just how much y’ve grown up on me dese past years. How many t’ings have changed.”

Pain sliced at Spencer's insides. _No_. This was it, then. Remy was going to walk away. The changes in Spencer were going to be too much and he was going to walk away. Spencer felt the pain start deep down in his heart.

Remy wasn’t done yet, though. “Y’ aint de only one dat’s changed, though. I’ve changed too. I aint de same person I was back den. I’ve…made somet’in of m’self. T’ings are better’n dey used to be, _mais_ dey aint perfect. I’ve just traded one dangerous situation fo’ another. Just, dis time, I’m on de right side. De good side. Dere are still countless people out dere dat would kill me if dey had de chance. People dat aint gonna be afraid to use m’ weaknesses against me.”

Why was he still going? If he was going to end this, why didn’t he just do it? Spencer wanted to ask but he just stood and watched, unable to say a word. A tiny part of him hoped that he was wrong. Either way, whatever was going on here, it was going to make or break them, and right now Spencer wasn’t sure which.

“Dere aint a whole lot dat I can offer y’, cher.” Remy said honestly and simply. “I got a wife dat loves me and who would kill me if I ever went back home, and an ex-girlfriend at de mansion who never loved me and dat used me as much as I used her. I got more enemies dan anyone realizes. I aint de same pup I was. I’m older, ornerier, more set in m’ ways. I flirt like it’s goin’ outta style, my mouth runs away wit’ me and gets me int’ a hell of a lot of trouble, and I’m told I can be a pretty big pain in de ass. Scotty says I got more energy dan a herd of monkeys on speed.”

A surprised chuckle slipped from Spencer. That was a pretty entertaining and accurate description of a hyper Remy.

Remy smiled slightly and pushed up from the bed. He stood there, watching Spencer, not coming towards him but not backing down. He was standing his ground for whatever he had to say next. “I’m all dose t’ings, Spencer. Y’ know dat, y’ know de core of me, better’n anyone. M’ habits aint gotten better over de years. I still smoke too much, drink too much, and get int’ trouble. I’m still a possessive, overprotective _homme_ and I’ll probably drive y’ absolutely batty fo’ tryin’ to keep y’ outta trouble an fo’ fightin’ with folks I t’ink are getting a lil too friendly with y’, cause y’ don’t never seem to notice it.”

With each passing word, Spencer felt lighter and lighter inside. That tiny kernel of hope was starting to grow. “You’re really selling yourself well here, Cricket.” He found himself teasing.

“Aint I just?” Chuckling, Remy shook his head. He lifted one hand and ran it nervously through his hair. “I guess what I’m sayin' is dis—I’m all dose t’ings, Spencer. But I’m also someone dat loves y’ more dan life itself. Y’ said y’ve lived a life with me and without me and y’ know which one y’ prefer. I done de same t’ing. I know what life’s like without y’ in it. Fo’ years now, I convinced myself I was fine. Dat it was better dis way. I lied so much to myself until I almost started to believe dat I was fine. All it took was dat one look at y’r eyes in dat dirty alley fo’ me to realize just much I’d been lying to m’self. I felt more alive in dat one moment, more happy, dan I’ve felt since de day I walked out de door.”

Spencer's fear was fading away, only to be replaced by a joy that was growing bigger and bigger with every word. His couldn’t stop smiling. Laughter bubbled up his throat. “Are we having a ‘chick moment’?” He asked teasingly. Remy had always called moments like these in the movies ‘chick moments’. Back then, he’d always insisted that guys didn’t have moments like this. They didn’t make grand speeches to announce their feelings.

Husky laughter rang in the air. Remy’s whole face was lit with his love and good humor. “We are. An I aint done yet, so y’ just suck it on up and deal with it, Spencer.”

“By all means.” He gestured between them with one hand. “Please, continue.”

“ _Merci_.” Remy straightened his jacket collar, lifting his chin slightly. When Spencer snickered at him, he lost it and he laughed as well. “ _Bon Dieu_. Fo’get dis shit.” With that, Remy took one step forward and closed the distance between them. He grabbed Spencer with one arm around his waist and yanked him in close. “ _Je t’aime_ , Spencer Reid. I aint never stopped lovin’ y’. Share y’r life with me. It won’t be easy but I can promise it won’t never be dull.”

When Remy had jerked him forward he’d caught himself on Remy’s shoulders, bracing there. Now he tipped his head back and grinned up at him. “You make such an appealing offer.”

“What can I say? I’m unique.” Remy tipped his sunglasses down, letting his eyes show. “What do y’ say, Spencer?”

“I say it’s about time.” With that, Spencer reached up and pulled Remy down for a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

Morning was just starting to rise when Remy woke. There was no moment of disorientation. No sensation of strangeness at waking up in a bed that wasn’t his own. He recognized the body tucked under his before he even opened his eyes. He’d recognize Spencer anywhere. Plus, there was no one else Remy had ever met or slept with that slept _under_ someone the way that Spencer did. A content sigh slid from Remy and he shifted his position just slightly until he was comfortable once more. He nuzzled in through Spencer's hair to reach the back of his neck. There, it let the man’s shampoo scent surround him and he gave another content little sigh. What a perfect start to a morning. God, he’d missed this. He’d missed everything about this. The solid feel of Spencer stretched out underneath him, body loose and pliant from sleep. The shampoo smell was a different one than in his memories but it still made him smile. It was a slightly herbal scent that just seemed to suit his partner.

Partner. The word rang through Remy and warmed parts of his soul that had been chilled and empty for far too long. _And whose fault was that?_ He had no one to blame for it but himself. The choice had been his that day he’d walked out, and he’d chosen to stay away every day since then. Remy knew he was lucky, more lucky than he deserved, that Spencer had waited for him. That fact still sent a thrill through him. To think that Spencer had actually waited for him all these years. It was both amazing and humbling. Spencer may not have been one for grand displays or for flowery words. His actions, though, spoke loud and clear. There was no doubting just how much he loved.

The joy on his face last night when Remy had asked him to try again, to share a life with him, was a memory that Remy would never forget. The man had looked as if he’d just been offered every dream he’d ever wanted on a silver platter. It made Remy feel about ten feet tall. No one had ever looked at him in the way that Spencer did. The way he still does, amazingly enough.

Remy had been content to just stand there last night and hold his mate close. To hold Spencer in his arms and know that it was okay again. That everything in his world was right once more. But after a bit, he’d felt Spencer's body start to sag some, felt him lean just a little heavier, and he’d looked down into that sweet face and he’d seen the exhaustion there. The next decision had been an easy one. He’d sent Spencer off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. There’d been just a moment of awkwardness, a bit of shyness, and then Spencer had disappeared into the bathroom. Same as he had the last time, he clicked the little lock on the bathroom shut when he was inside. Remy had noticed it before and it had made him wince then the same as it did now. That was something new.

The pajama clothes were new, too. Remy remembered a time when Spencer had slept in a t-shirt and boxers, at most. Then again, back then they’d often fallen asleep together after loving one another, so it was kind of expected that there were no clothes in the way. But still. Now, Spencer had pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, as if he was going to freeze, or couldn’t bear to have any skin show. Something told Remy it was a little bit of both. He hadn’t mentioned it as they settled down into bed just as they had the other night. He’d folded Spencer into his arms and cradled him close. It only took minutes before Spencer had gone to sleep.

There were so many little things that were different. Remy had been telling the truth when he’d told Spencer that they’d both changed. Some of those changes were going to take some figuring out and adjustment on both their parts. There were still things that needed fixed. He just needed to figure out how. He and Spencer needed to talk and they needed to figure out what they were going to do now. Was Spencer going to go back home with the team? Would they date long distance? The thought of that was painful, to say the least.

Lying here worrying wasn’t going to do a damn thing, that was for sure. Remy stifled a sigh. He sure wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep now. His brain was far too awake. Instead, he carefully extracted himself from overtop Spencer, drawing away carefully enough that he wouldn’t wake the sleeping man. Then he pulled the blankets up over him and tucked him in so he wouldn’t chill without Remy’s body heat there to help keep him warm. Once that was done, Remy placed a call downstairs for some breakfast and then he went and took a quick shower.

He’d just come back out of the bathroom when there was a knock at the door. A glance at the bed made him chuckle. Spencer's head was buried underneath a pillow and the rest of him seemed to be curled up in a ball under the blankets. He was well and truly burrowed in. The pillow Remy had used seemed to have vanished somewhere as well. Most likely under the covers. Spencer had used to do that when they lived together; if Remy had left the bed, the young genius would take his pillow and hold it close to his chest.

Remy slipped his sunglasses on to hide his eyes and he answered the door, smiling charmingly at the attendant there. He took the tray with the coffee and pastries and gave the boy a tip. Then he shut and latched the door behind him before turning and heading back towards the bed. If he knew Spencer at all, then the young man would be stirring here shortly when the smell of coffee managed to reach him.

Sure enough, Remy had set the tray down on the table and was in the process of pouring the coffee when he heard some shuffling coming from the direction of the bed. He smirked a little and continued to prepare their breakfast. Cups of coffee were set in front of each chair. Next, he arranged the pastries, separating the ones he loved from the ones Spencer, well, the ones that he’d used to love, once upon a time. Hopefully he still did.

Remy slipped down into one of the chairs and turned towards the bed. Then he waited. Early morning Spencer had always been a favorite of his to watch. A tired Spencer was a funny Spencer. He was half zombie, half little kid, and all kinds of hilarious. He watched with amusement as the blankets moved just enough for one sleepy brown eye to peek out at him. That eye looked him over and then settled on his face, staring at him for a long moment. “’offee?” The sleepy voice was muffled slightly by the blankets.

Humor tickled at Remy’s throat. “ _Oui, mon amour._ Coffee and breakfast.”

That eye stared a second longer. Then, with a huge sigh, one hand came up and pushed the blankets away. Here was where the sleepy child came in. Spencer clumsily pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking wrinkled and sleep rumpled, and he lifted one fist to rub at his eye. Then he yawned and ran a hand through his hair, which was already sticking out all over the place. His clothes were sleep rumpled and there were marks on his cheek from where he’d been lying on a wrinkled part of the bedding. He looked absolutely adorable. Remy fought back the urge to go climb right back in bed with him and forget the coffee. He had to remind himself that even though they were essentially ‘back together’, it didn’t mean he could just pick things up where they’d left off. Too much had happened since then. It wasn’t going to just be that simple.

It hit him then in a way he hadn’t realized before as he watched Spencer slowly wake up and start to unwind himself from the blankets. Those little things Remy so loved, things that he had taken for granted as a part of _them_ , those weren’t open to him anymore. Not yet. What he had once seen as natural, a normal part in their relationship, some of the things so little that they weren’t even worth notice, he was now seeing that they were more than that. They were big things. Things that he had been given, not as his right, but as his privilege. Things he had earned. Things that had never been shared with another. They had been there before because he’d earned them. Because Spencer loved him and trusted him. But that trust between them had been broken. He’d broken it.

Some of it was still there, held by the love that had amazingly stayed alive all these years. Remy could see it now as Spencer rose from the bed and smiled shyly at him. It was a fragile thing, though. Gossamer threads that could snap so easily. One wrong word, one wrong move, and those last few threads could break away and he’d lose it all. Looking at Spencer's face, in his eyes, he could see it written there; see the words that his shy little love would never be able to voice. This was his chance, here. This was his last chance. Creed may have torn apart Spencer's body; Remy had torn apart his heart and soul. The fact that he was getting this second chance was testament to the great heart that lived inside of Spencer. He was being given the chance to earn the privilege to hold that heart in his hands once more. Remy looked at this beautiful man and he knew he would do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t screw things up this time around.

Spencer stopped by the chairs and looked down into Remy’s upturned face. Some of his thoughts must’ve been visible there because Spencer's cheeks heated a little more. Slender hands lifted and Remy held still as Spencer drew his sunglasses off and tossed them onto the bed. One hand hovered near Remy’s face and Remy knew that Spencer was unsure. Unsure if this was allowed, unsure if he should. Just, unsure. He couldn’t force Spencer's touch. But he did put all the love and reassurance he felt into his eyes and hoped that Spencer would see it and understand.

He must have seen something. His lips quirked and his hand moved to cup the side of Remy’s face. The Cajun couldn’t help himself. His eyes drifted to half-mast and he rubbed his cheek against Spencer's hand. It surprised, charmed and pleased him all at the same time when Spencer actually bent down and gave him a soft, sleepy kiss. When they broke apart, his young love was smiling and there was just a hint of heat to his cheeks. “Good morning.”

“Mm, dat it is, cher. A fine one.” Remy teased, winking.

His teasing did the trick. Spencer's smile grew and his nerves faded ever so slightly. He looked more comfortable as he slid down into his seat and reached for his coffee cup. Long legs curled up in the chair with him, feet resting on the seat and his knees coming up in front of him to act as a perfect spot to rest his mug. Remy watched him settle in and just grinned. It felt so damn good to sit here. Hell, everything felt good this morning. And why not? It was a great day. It was the start of a hell of a lot more great days if he had anything to say about it.

It was both easy and comfortable to sit there and enjoy their morning coffee. Neither one said a word as they just enjoyed the brew and one another’s company. Sunlight was slowly filling the room with a warm glow that just gave them a hint more peace with the morning. Spencer dropped one leg down from his chair and Remy slipped his foot over so that their feet brushed against one another. He saw Spencer's lips quirk ever so slightly at the gesture. Remy smiled outright. Cradling his mug, playing a little footsie with his partner, and staring at that sweet, sleepy face, Remy swore there was no better feeling in the entire world.

They’d finished their first cups and Remy was pouring a second for both of them when Spencer broke their silence. The young genius had pulled over one of the apple pastries and was picking at it slightly. “So, um, what exactly are our plans here?” His voice was still just a little husky from sleep, but Remy had no problem picking up on the nerves there. This was stepping into territory that was very difficult for Spencer.

Remy had been trying to answer that question for himself all morning long. He finished pouring the coffee and set the carafe down. Then he scooped up his mug and turned his full attention to Spencer. The conversation they were about to have was very, very important. “ _Je ne sais pas, mon amour._ I’ve been tryin’ t’ t’ink about it since I woke up.”

Breaking off a small piece of his pastry, Spencer nibbled on it for a moment in a way that set Remy’s insides humming slightly. He pushed that sensation down firmly. Now was not the time for those kinds of thoughts. Spencer was oblivious to it all. He looked like he was trying to gather his words to say something and Remy gave him the silence in which to do so. Unlike other people, he’d never tried to force Spencer to talk when he wasn’t ready. There was no point in it. Conversations like this were hard enough on him to begin with. Give Spencer a psychological case study and he could talk your ear off about emotions and feelings and what triggered them and what kind of effects they had on the patient’s decisions and life. Ask him how he honestly felt about something and he’d almost immediately get flustered and would end up either discreetly directing the conversation somewhere else or he’d stammer his way through a response.

Eventually Spencer found the words he wanted. He snuck a glance up at Remy through his shaggy bangs when he started to speak. “You know, I, I think there’s a lot that we, well, a lot of things that we should talk about. Things we need to, to figure out. And, ah, I’ve got, um, I’ve got v-vacation time that Hotch has been pushing me to take. A couple weeks’ worth, actually. So I was thinking that, maybe, we could go somewhere, t-together.” Spencer's cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. “I just thought, I mean, I figured that maybe going somewhere together, somewhere neutral for us, might make things a little easier. Plus, that way we have the time to, to just take things at our own pace. I mean, if you can spare the time, of course. And if you even want to go. I understand that you have obligations and things and there could be things that you do or work you do, I don’t know…”

“Spencer, Spencer.” Remy reached out his free hand and laid it on Spencer's thigh to cut him off. It worked. Spencer felt silent, though his blush grew deeper. Remy gave his leg a reassuring squeeze and ducked his head down, trying to catch Spencer's eye. When he did, he held there, smiling at him. “I’d love t’ go away wit’ y’. I t’ink it sounds like de perfect idea. Did y’ have anywhere in mind dat y’ wanted t’ go t’?”

“No.” Spencer shook his head. Some of his blush faded away and he lifted his head just the slightest bit. That hesitant yet pleased smile that Remy loved so much was starting to grow. “You…you really want to go?”

“ _Bien sûr_. Like y’ said, we got a lot t’ talk about, cher. It’ll all be easier if we’re away from everyone and everyt’in’. Not t’ mention, I like de idea of havin’ y’ all t’ m’self.”

That brought a mixed response to Spencer. Love and excitement was easy to read on him, as was the relief, but Remy also picked up on a flare of nerves that were strong and surprising. Nerves? Remy froze for a second as he thought back over his words. A second later, it clicked. Ah. Spencer must’ve taken his last comment a little differently than Remy had intended it. He’d honestly meant he liked the idea of having Spencer to himself, but he had a feeling Spencer had taken that in a sexual sense. Remy had already figured out that that area of things was off limits right now. Really, really off limits. So much so that Spencer had even been nervous at first about just lying in bed with him. That was just one of the many issues they needed to work out.

Remy set his coffee cup down on the table and sat up a little. This was something he wanted to correct right here and right now. He wanted Spencer to understand. It was very important to make sure that his lover knew what he meant and what was going to happen between them. Leaning forward, Remy caught Spencer's gaze once more. His seriousness had Spencer responding in kind, sitting up a little straighter and meeting him eye to eye. Pleased, Remy nodded. His hand was still on Spencer's leg and he gave another squeeze to reassure him. When he spoke, his words were straightforward and blunt; the best way to do this, he knew. “Spencer, I want t’ make dis clear. I aint askin’ y’ t’ jump right int’ bed wit’ me. I’d like t’ sleep beside y’, hold y’ like I did last night, _mais_ dat’s it. De rest can wait until y’r comfortable.”

Surprise reflected in Spencer's wide eyes. It was quickly followed by confusion and just a tiny hint of worry. Remy didn’t give that time to build. He reached over and caught Spencer's chin in his hand, holding him before he could try to turn his head away. Spencer's look was so nervous and shy it tugged at Remy’s heart. He stroked his thumb over Spencer's jawline soothingly. “It’s not because I don’t want y’, so don’t y’ start t’inkin’ dat. I just wanna do dis right, Spencer. I want de chance t’ prove t’ y’ dat y’ can trust me again b’fore I ask y’ t’ take dat kind of step wit’ me. We’ll take t’ings slowly. One kiss at a time.” The last part he said with a smile that Spencer shared. Those last words were the exact same ones he’d said when he and Spencer had first started dating. The young genius had been so shy and awkward, so unsure of himself. He’d never dated anyone and he’d never really dealt with touches or feelings from other people that were _positive_. More, he’d never had a friend like Remy, and he’d been terrified that whatever they tried would ruin the most amazing friendship he’d ever had. Remy had convinced him to take things slow, building things between them ‘one kiss at a time’. And it had worked. The gradual slip from friends to boyfriends to lovers had been taken at a snail’s pace, yet it had been perfect. Just exactly what he needed.

Spencer tipped his head down just enough that he could press a kiss against the side of Remy’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Fo’ y’? Anyt’ing, _bébé_.” Remy let go of Spencer's chin and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He didn’t want to completely let go. He let his hand drop down to once more rest against Spencer's thigh and Spencer seemed content to leave it there. “Why don’t we go ahead and finish our breakfast? When we’re done, y’ can go talk t’ y’r boss and I’ll go talk t’ mine. If y’ aint got no place in mind fo’ us t’ go, den I t’ink I got an idea. Are y’ okay wit’ me plannin’ our trip?”

“Absolutely.”

That was something that Remy really did love about Spencer. The other man was never bothered by it when Remy did things like that. He didn’t seem to mind if Remy ordered for him at a restaurant, or if he wanted to plan their vacation, or if he wanted to buy him something. Spencer didn’t act like it threatened his manhood to not be in control of something. Hell, he was more relaxed about letting Remy take charge of some things than some women could be. He knew it wasn’t a matter of power or control between them. It wasn’t Remy trying to be the ‘man’ in the relationship.  It was just the way that Remy was. To him, it was ways to show that he cared, by taking care of his partner. Seeing the trust and happiness on Spencer's face had Remy grinning broadly. Man, he’d grinned more this morning than he usually did in a month. He gave Spencer's leg one last stroke and then sat back in his chair to reach for a bit of his own breakfast.  “Perfect. I t’ink I got an idea where t’ go.”

Spencer went back to his own pastry, actually picking it up to eat it this time instead of just picking at it. “Where to?”

“I don’t t’ink I’ll tell y’. I t’ink I’ll just make it a surprise.” Remy said, winking at him. His heart felt light and his spirits were high. He took a bite out of his pastry and grinned. He’d been right before. Today was a great day. “So, cher…y’ got y’r passport on y’?”


End file.
